Simply A Backstory
by Ranoko
Summary: Princess Tutu only had a few lines in the original 'The Prince and The Raven.' But when Fakir needs a subject to write about, there's not a lot of options that will motivate him enough to get through a story. So he investigates Princess Tutu. However, even stories that are already over can be influential...
1. Decisions

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

Side Note: I wanted to look further into what Princess Tutu was like before 'The Prince & The Raven', or even during it. But for some reason, I didn't want to just give a straight fairy tale story, even though it was sure to be more than that. So, I ended up with what you will find here. This takes place a number of months after the end of the series, so there will definitely be some spoilers involved. I hope you enjoy it~

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Decisions

Fakir danced in a practice room alone. Well, mostly alone. A few students had wandered into the upper loft and were probably watching him. He was a good dancer, but he didn't consider himself the best at the school. Perhaps with Mytho gone, they were searching for another target. But Fakir had little trouble ignoring them now; he concentrated on his balance, his form.

He had been trying to write, for quite a while now. But writer's block was not so easily overcome – especially when he was worried about what effect his 'inspiration' might have on the real world. He was tired of glaring at blank paper, though. So he was now trying to forget what he _needed_ to be doing, and let his body slip back into old routines. He could focus on placement instead of paper, follow rhythm instead of writing words. Honestly, ballet had just been a passing interest for him as a child, but he'd wanted to stay close to Mytho, and Mytho was a natural at dance. Since that time, the art had grown in Fakir. It gave him control when nothing else seemed to work. He might not be the best at brandishing a sword, or a pen, but he could at least direct his own body with confidence. Unlike a certain other dance student…

His lip twitched at the thought of Duck trying so hard in her beginner class to stay balanced. She was improving, for sure, but – well, _had_ been improving. Before.

Hardening his face, he pushed the thought from his mind; he was not going to get caught up in that again, not right now. He flew into another exercise aggressively, putting his energies into turnout and articulation. He went through twice on each side, urging himself to do better each time. When he finished, he was sweating more profusely. Apparently, something he'd done went well, because he heard someone clapping upstairs. He just closed his eyes and normalized his breathing. The clapping was abruptly stopped, followed by whispering. He needed to keep moving, keep practicing. Fakir centered himself, then went on to another round of exercises, this time less haphazardly, and more basic.

The greater control was evident in his dancing. After a few more rounds, he was no less tired. But the ache wasn't charged with emotional upheaval – it just filled his muscles with a sense of accomplishment. His last exercise hadn't used extraordinary moves, but he had _done_ something, fully and completely. The sense of completion felt nice in comparison to the anxiety of what he _hadn__'t_ done, which had been lingering over him for days, but was now happily absent. For the moment. He was tired of worrying; he didn't want to fall into that trap again.

Fakir went out to get a drink, and thoughts of writing poked at the back of his brain. Still avoiding the problem as a whole, but wanting to get rid of the nagging, he decided he would write later; something he wouldn't have to worry about. Something that couldn't possibly change everything around him. For example, something that had already happened, so it couldn't really be changed. Fakir stared at the small pool of water after he had quenched his thirst.

But what could that be? The nagging pressed.

… Tutu. He had been able to write about Duck while she was Princess Tutu, and when she was a duck. He couldn't seem to write anything good about Duck right now, but maybe… he could write about Princess Tutu from before. _In_ the story. Before everything changed. Before Duck became Princess Tutu. Before she lost so much…

Fakir left the water fountain. He would write about Princess Tutu, what she was like in The Prince and The Raven, before any of the huge events. No worrying about the future or his impact – just telling the tale of a princess, probably in love. That was how those things went, right? And that particular story had already happened; he just needed to give it a stage. Surely that would get his mind going on writing again, and free him from worrying so much.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

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Chapter One

A simple story. A short story. A story he already knew the ending to. This ought to be easier than what he'd been fighting with for days, weeks. He didn't have to write anything new, he just had to give Princess Tutu some background; from before the story exploded from its pages and entered Goldcrown. Fakir looked contemplatively out a window. The ending was when… Princess Tutu became a speck of light? But that had happened in Goldcrown, too… But things had repeated somewhat from the story. The fight with the Raven, the Festival of the Crows… He knew The Prince and The Raven well enough by now that he didn't need to look up the one little bit with Princess Tutu in it. The few lines given her would be enough to work from. And besides, he had known Princess Tutu himself! For a while anyway. Well, Duck as Tutu. But they were supposed to be the same character, really – or close enough. Other than the gracefulness. And cleverness. And dancing skill… Ok, so Duck and Princess Tutu were rather different entirely. But they shared enough characteristics that he could-

No, that wasn't how things went. Duck was Duck, so Princess Tutu had to be herself too. If he was going to write Princess Tutu in a time before or even during The Prince and The Raven, she would not have Duck's characteristics. Like her hair – her hair would probably be all white, instead of that splash of orange like Duck's. Yes, white like a swan…

_The princess gracefully lifted her arms above her short white hair as if she were raising wings to the sky in welcome, and then she began her dance routine, starting with a fluid grande port de bras._

A smile twitched at Fakir's lips.

_Her skirt brushed her legs as she continued with d__éveloppés, slowly unfolding her legs and extending her arms. She allowed herself to be totally absorbed by the dance, putting her heart on display and encouraging the world to take it. This was something she did every morning in the town's gardens, not only to welcome the day into the kingdom, but to welcome all who lived in it to a new day. She saw many people pass by while she danced. Quite a few stayed until she was done, and they applauded and thanked her for her dancing. She was used to the fanfare, but it still touched her that they cared. She smiled at them and put a hand on her heart. "Thank you all for your generous and loving words." She said as she extended both her hands in an open gesture; "Please be sure to share that love with those around you today!" She then gave a demi-plié curtsy and went over to her father's servant, who was waiting for her. He was an older servant, but he could still perform all duties given him, especially those concerning the princess. He offered her a blue cloak, but she politely refused, as she always did; her dancing kept her warm enough. He helped her onto a horse, then got up on his own horse, and they rode off._

"_We are so lucky to have Princess Tutu as our ruler!" one of the lingering men said joyfully._

"_Almost ruler," another specified; "Her father still holds the crown, although heaven knows for how much longer."_

"_With grace, he will hold it for a long while yet – I don't know if the Princess will be able to come and dance for us once she becomes a queen," a woman remarked._

"_I'm sure she would make time," someone threw out confidently, although their face betrayed their hesitancy._

"_Whether or not she would make the time," another woman said, "she would certainly still love us all the same. You can see it in her face –– she's not got the kind of heart to forget about anyone."_

"_Yeah…" a young man said wistfully. He continued staring after where the horse had gone off with the Princess and her guard. He always watched her every day, for her entire routine. He never got tired of her dance, even though it was the same thing every day._

What, Fakir thought, a love interest already? That was quick… Fakir mentally shrugged; it could just be infatuation. It wasn't like she didn't have a group watch her every day anyway… He remembered the fans Mytho once had at the school. At least Princess Tutu had the decency to address them kindly and say goodbye before leaving. Although, that hadn't really been Mytho's fault, exactly. Being heartless didn't give much inclination to courtesy.

Back to writing.

_The young man__'s name was Leopold, and he sighed as he got up to return to his daily routine. He always enjoyed Princess Tutu's dance, but as he saw the other townspeople around him go on to their jobs as well, he figured he wasn't the only one. He took one last glance after Tutu, pulled some of his sandy blonde hair out of his face, and then joined the dispersing crowd._

_Back at the castle__'s stables, the Princess was helped off the horse by the servant. "Thank you Kurt," she said gratefully as she curtsied to him._

_Kurt smiled through his short grey-speckled beard as he bowed. __"It is always a pleasure to do my duty, Princess Sylvia."_

"_You know you may call me Princess Tutu if you want, Kurt," she said mildly._

"_But that is not your name, my Princess." Kurt responded evenly._

"_It is what the people call me," she said._

"_Because that is what they know of you," Kurt replied; "I know there is more to you than just your dancing."_

"_They know that as well, Kurt," she responded, although not as confidently; she covered with a small smile; "But I am happy that my dancing can bring joy."_

Fakir looked at the paper. He was intrigued to note that she had a different given name, but that made sense. She didn't decide what the citizens called her on their own time, and she was certainly kind enough to allow the nickname in her presence.

Minutes passed. Fakir thought about where to go next.

Well, where was the Prince? That was her love, right?

_Kurt frowned; __"Yet you do not seem very happy, my Princess. Why?"_

"_What do you mean?" Princess Sylvia asked innocently, trying to hide the sullen tone in her voice._

"_You danced beautifully, and yet you seem listless now."_

_She smiled wearily. __"I am simply tired. Thank you for worrying about me, Kurt." She gave another curtsy before turning around to leave._

"_Is that disappointment I sense?" Kurt said perceptively._

_She paused._

"_My Princess, you have no need to worry about your performance. Everyone applauded, and rightfully so."_

_She turned and looked at Kurt with a wistful smile; __"…It wasn't my performance, Kurt, although thank you again."_

"_If not, then what?" Kurt questioned. Before she could leave, he continued; "Were you expecting somebody to be there who wasn't?"_

_Her smile faltered. __"I… I would not say 'expected'-"_

"_It's that Prince, isn't it?"_

_Princess Sylvia couldn__'t hide her feelings, and gave a sigh as her pose deflated. "…You have always been very observant, Kurt."_

"_It is my duty," Kurt said sympathetically as he approached, "as your father's servant, and as your friend."_

_Princess Sylvia hugged Kurt softly, and Kurt returned the embrace. __"…I know that it isn't terribly likely to happen," she said, "but I keep thinking that I will see him while I am dancing out there. I have always danced in the mornings, even before I knew him, but now, I feel like…"_

"_My Princess," Kurt said comfortingly when she did not continue, "I am sure that Prince Siegfried would be watching you if he could. But he has the Raven to deal with currently, as does his father, and their entire kingdom. All the kingdoms are at the creature's mercy. Our kingdom is fortunate; your father's magic helps protect us. That is why your father can still remain at the castle instead of going out to battle himself."_

"_I understand," the Princess said despondently, "I… just suppose I never realized it could be so terribly difficult to not to be selfish."_

"_You are not being selfish;" Kurt insisted, "you're acting like a girl in love. Actually, much more responsibly than many girls in love."_

_Princess Sylvia smiled as she hugged him tighter; __"Thank you, Kurt. You help make it easier for me to forget myself when I am weak."_

"_No, my Princess," Kurt responded, "I help you find yourself. You must not forget yourself, who you are nor who you will become."_

_She left the embrace smiling; __"I know, Kurt. I want to become a loving ruler for my father's people. I want to lift everyone's hearts with joy and light. That is why I dance for them every morning, to remind them that the light is coming and will fill them with hope."_

_Kurt smiled; __"Yes, that is what you do. But I also mean that you must not forget yourself in your heart," he enunciated, gently touching above his own heart; "You can still be a loving ruler and chase after your own heart now and again."_

_Her face became slightly confused, although she continued smiling; __"…Yes, Kurt, I understand. I love dancing for others, and that is why I-"_

"_My Princess," Kurt interrupted politely, smiling, "I think you know what kind of heart chasing I was referring to." He raised his eyebrows._

_Princess Sylvia__'s face flushed; "Well, I… I… I mean, I am not… 'chasing'…"_

_Kurt laughed; __"Not yet, my Princess. It is good that you wait to do that, at least until the war is over. Then we can talk more about actions."_

_Her flush deepened. __"… Kurt! I…"_

_Kurt lovingly patted her shoulder; __"This can wait. Why don't we inform your father that you are back safe?" Without waiting for an answer, Kurt started walking off._

_Princess Tutu was unsure what to make of her Kurt__'s friendly accusations, but she soon quelled her thoughts enough to remember her responsibilities, and went to catch up to Kurt._

Fakir put down his quill. Had writing with her always been so… accommodating? It made sense, but… Writing hadn't come this easy in a while, and actually turned out something he didn't hate. Currently. Maybe he should look her up again after all… More research always helped.


	3. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

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Chapter Two

As anticipated, Fakir's research hadn't turned up very much. He had forgotten just how simplistic Tutu's appearance had been in the story. She played her role, and then vanished with her last words of love. He really had a lot of room to explore with his writing; which made it a bit more difficult, actually. For now, he still felt like he could only look so far into the story. But despite that weakness, he needed get back to writing before he got caught up in possibilities again. He wasn't affecting anyone with this, he reminded himself, he was just writing to explore the past. He could let the story sway itself if it wanted to, for it was already over. The ending wouldn't change. He just was going to fill in some gaps.

_Princess Sylvia practiced her dancing as much as her father practiced his magic. She learned magic from her tutors, and while she picked it up well, she was nowhere near her father__'s proficiency. She insisted that she could help him more if he would let her, but King Marius did not wish his daughter to become too involved in war affairs. He knew she would be a good ruler, but stemmed her war education at planning and fortifications. If it became necessary for her to know more about battle, he said, it would be better for her to surrender and live._

_While she did not agree with her father, the Princess did love him, and respected his wishes. She tried to ensure that her magic could be used for the best defensive purposes. She often practiced among the townspeople, helping fortify gardens and fields. King Marius desired that his daughter be familiar with their subjects. Secretly, he hoped that if the townspeople loved their princess enough, they would be willing to fight for her if it became necessary. He had their respect, most assuredly, and their support – but his powers against the Raven were weakening, and his armies were already out and fighting. The magical barrier surrounding what was left of their kingdom was diminishing in strength. He could not hide from his daughter that the war with the Raven had forced their kingdom to shrink, merely leaving the town surrounding the castle; all their other lands had succumbed to the Raven__'s powers. There were no reinforcements; only the castle and the people around it. They could still pin their hopes on Prince Siegfried and his father, King Ivanov, though, for that was all they had._

Suddenly, Fakir felt as if he were hearing a conversation; he began writing on a new piece of paper.

"_If all goes well, your father may offer you in marriage to Prince Siegfried. He is saving all the kingdoms, after all – and the only thing we have to offer him is you, my Princess," Kurt said to Princess Sylvia as she looked out at the sunset from a balcony._

_Princess Sylvia blushed as she looked at Kurt; __"… There are other kingdoms Prince Siegfried is also protecting;" she said with an embarrassed smile. The sun reflecting on her white hair only made her look more radiant; "I am sure that they will also have princesses to offer him, much prettier than I."_

"_You are wrong," Kurt stated, looking directly at her; "There could be no one as beautiful as you, even in another kingdom, my Princess."_

"… _Kurt, you are too kind."_

"_And you are too modest, my Princess," Kurt countered, "But even if you do not believe that your beauty and grace are enough to draw Prince Siegfried in, the love you already hold for him surely will."_

_She looked back at the sunset, her smile fading a little as she sighed. __"But… he does not know of my love for him."_

"_How could he not? Every time he would come into a room, you would light up like a radiant star," Kurt said._

"_R-really?" Princess Sylvia questioned quickly, looking at Kurt worriedly; "Is it that obvious?"_

_Kurt chuckled; __"I believe so, but I also know you quite well, my Princess. Although, I do think that the Prince would have to be blind not to notice your feelings." Kurt sobered somewhat; "But I fear that he has been blinded by the concerns of war. So, there is a chance he does not know of your feelings yet."_

_Princess Sylvia returned to staring off at the sunset; she had never actually met Prince Siegfried before the problems with the Raven occurred. She had been thankful for the reason then, ignorant to the terrific problems that would ensue; but now__…_

"… _Honestly, I believe that is alright. If he doesn't know," she said absently, "He has many concerns right now, least of all of them would be marriage. And, even after all of this…" her voice caught momentarily, but she overcame the emotion; "I think I could live… with him choosing another."_

_She felt a cautious hand on her shoulder; __"But you need not, my Princess. Surely you can tell him yourself-"_

"_Kurt;" she cut him off, "the concerns of the kingdom come before my selfish desires. I am sure that King Ivanov feels the same way. Once this war is over, if Prince Siegfried should chose me…" she trailed off, imagining the bliss for a moment, but quickly returned to reality again; "I would surely accept, gladly. But just as surely, should he choose another, I would support his choice, and go on to guide my father's kingdom as best I can."_

_Kurt removed his hand; __"… I understand, my Princess."_

Idiot… Fakir thought. He was reminded of Mytho's selflessness. Prince Siegfried's selflessness. He needed to get used to that name. He hoped, no, he would make sure that Kurt would do a better job of supporting Princess Sylvia than he had done with Mytho. Siegfried. Whatever. Back to the story.

_Princess Sylvia watched as the last rays of sunlight filtered beneath the horizon, and twilight truly began. Now was the time when crows would be most active. She could see clouds of them on the horizon, far beyond their own walls. Biding their time until her father__'s magic ran out. Ravaging what villages remained. Waging war with Prince Siegfried and King Ivanov, with their armies, with the supporting armies given to them in a desperate attempt to overcome the Raven's growing powers. She thought of Prince Siegfried battling out there, putting everything he had into protecting not only his kingdom, but all the kingdoms. All while she simply stood there and watched._

_Her eyes started brimming with tears; __"I… I wish that I could help…"_

_Kurt looked at her sympathetically; __"My Princess, we have discussed this…"_

"_I know…" she sniffed, "But… Father is doing as much as he can to protect our kingdom, and Prince Siegfried is out there fighting the Raven, and King Ivanov is fighting too, and the knights from all the kingdoms are joining, and… and even the people are contributing! They spend their days making armor and food and sending them to the armies beyond the walls!" She turned to Kurt, tears falling now as she continued emotionally, "And all this, while I do nothing! I practice, and learn, and see everybody else helping out, _but I do nothing_!__"_

Fakir paused, and not just because of her emotions. He felt something welling within him; a connection. But with what-?

Uselessness. That was what she was feeling. She was useless in a war raging around her that could use every willing hand, and she could do nothing for it. Fakir knew that feeling. He hated that feeling. He wanted nothing more than to throw that feeling to the wind and never see it again, to bury it under a million miles of stone. But it was always there. Even here, it welled up through the ink and into his heart-

No, that wasn't this story. This wasn't a story about him, it was about Princess Tutu. Sylvia. _She_ was feeling this, not him. And this was all something that was in the past. He hadn't intended to stumble into this, but there it was; and now he could write her through it. Kurt would be there for her.

_Princess Sylvia wept, and Kurt tenderly embraced her; __"No, my Princess; you do not do 'nothing'. You go out among the people every single day, and show them that there is light in the world still. You do not allow the dark circumstances to dampen your spirit, and that spirit is what keeps the people going. Without you, they would not find reason for their work; they would see no purpose in making armor to defend a kingdom already lost. But they do not see it as prolonging the inevitable; they see it as protecting a shining light that is precious to them. You are a beacon, my Princess, and I fear what the kingdom would become without your presence."_

_Princess Sylvia sniffed in Kurt__'s arms as she calmed her tears. "…Thank you, Kurt," she eventually said softly; "I appreciate your words."_

"_They are not just words, my Princess, but the truth."_

_She waited before speaking again; __"And… what about Prince Siegfried? What might I do to help him?"_

_Kurt lifted the Princess__' face to look straight at her; "You can support your people. They will support Prince Siegfried and his armies with their food and whatever else they can send along. But you must support them, my Princess, to help them put forth their best efforts."_

_Her face still looked disappointed, but she gave a small smile anyway after a moment of thought. __"… Alright, Kurt. I will do as you and Father say."_

_Kurt smiled, relieved; __"That is good to hear, my Princess." He offered her her blue cloak against the oncoming chill of evening. She accepted the cloak, and together they headed inside._

Fakir wondered if her smile was because she truly believed in Kurt's words, or if she had just decided to accept what was given to her. He had an uncomfortable feeling it may have been the latter, but he hoped that he was wrong.


	4. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

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Chapter Three

Fakir sat near the pond, back with quill and paper. He had been assigned a paper for school, and hadn't been able to write on the story for a few days. However, he had figured out some ideas and likely relations, like how King Marius was not as close to his daughter Princess Sylvia as he would have liked, but that was why he had Kurt watch her so closely. Also, the armies from all the kingdoms must have dwindled quite a bit for the fighting to require their joining together; and given the future of the story, it probably still wouldn't be enough… But maybe it would. The Prince would be fighting the Raven singularly at the end, after all. Perhaps the armies had defeated the rest of the Raven's forces, although just barely. That would still create an unending battle, if the Raven was still powerful enough to resist defeat.

But that was farther ahead, beyond the story he was telling. In the meantime, perhaps Leopold would make a reappearance. He had been singled out by name earlier. Of course, not everyone with a name needed to be a major contributor, but he liked the idea of consistency. Also, an idea had popped up while he was working on his analysis paper: the curse on Sylvia may have come from a witch associated with the Raven. It made sense, sort-of. If he could work that in. But he hadn't had much time for planning or writing on the story until now.

Duck sat near his leg. Due to the homework load, and spending his spare time in story research, he hadn't seen her much aside from walking back and forth to the smithy with her. She let him know that she was curious when he first got there, but he'd offered school as an excuse and now she was just resting in the sun. Despite the fact that he wasn't writing about her, he _was_ writing, and that in itself was progress. But she would make assumptions. She usually did. Her head sank a bit, then jerked back up as she tried to not fall over. He smiled, then turned back to his story. He would work more on his analysis paper later - he wanted to write more of the story.

_Princess Sylvia comforted herself with Kurt__'s words as she continued her dancing, and put more interest into interacting with the townspeople. She was grateful to see their encouraging response, as they always brightened whenever she was near. Many seemed happy to tell her their entire life story with almost no prompting from her. A few words of sympathy and a smile, and they would thank her and go back to their work with more fervor._

_However, she felt as if she were a bit of a burden whenever she visited with them. They would have to slow or even stop their work to talk to her, and they often did so for prolonged periods of time. Albeit, they did enjoy themselves, and returned to work with more energy, but that was still less time spent doing their duty. The Princess reasoned that the people needed to release their burdens onto _someone_, and she was their nearest outlet. Letting them release their problems for a while was helpful, most assuredly; but she still worried that she was keeping them too much._

_At the moment, Princess Sylvia stood in the shadow of a tree beside one of the buildings, leaning against its trunk. She knew if she sat down, Kurt would insist she sit on her cloak, __for she was__wearing a fancier dress than her usual dance outfit. Kurt had persisted in asking that she look more like a formal princess while she went on more casual __'outings' to lift morale._

No, Fakir realized as he crossed things out, Princess Tutu would prefer to be in her dancing outfit. Especially among the people. It didn't matter what she was wearing, anyway. She was royalty; Kurt wouldn't want her sitting on the ground.

_She knew that if she sat down, Kurt would insist she sit on her cloak, which she was wearing currently. She didn__'t want to take it off, and she would be less conspicuous if she stood. The only people in town who sat were those taking a break from their labors, or those whose professions required it while they worked. Her dress and cloak didn't exactly blend in, but she came into town often enough now that people didn't always notice her if she wasn't moving. They still gave her respect, but they had duties to perform, after all. And Princess Sylvia didn't mind it that way; then she didn't feel as if she were getting in the way. She sighed quietly as everyone went about their duties. Again, she was feeling… what was the word… 'Useless'. Prince Siegfried was out there, with the knights and his father, battling the Raven, while she…_

"No," Fakir muttered, recognizing the growing despondency, "It's not like that."

_Princess Sylvia paused, looking around. Had someone just said something to her?_

Fakir paused. He looked at the words for a few moments, then glanced around as well. He was still at the pond. Nothing had changed; the water still sparkled, and Duck still dozed. He went back to writing.

_She sighed, assuming she had just been thinking on Kurt__'s words again. She saw Kurt nearby, helping one of the men organize armor to take out the next morning. Even he could do more than she did, and his duties had nothing to do with the war preparations. "I wish I could help more…" she mumbled morosely._

Fakir didn't like that she was so hard on herself, and he couldn't seem to do much about it for long. Unless… maybe he could help her see how much her presence could improve someone else's morale.

_Leopold rounded the corner with another young man, both of them carrying timbers together. They were talking and did not notice the Princess._

"…_heard the crows did some hefty damage to the right end of the wall this morning." Leopold was saying; "King Marius was still recovering from an attack last night, so they almost got through."_

_The Princess tuned in to their conversation; word got around fast__… Even she had only heard about the morning's problems indirectly as she'd gone to the stables. Most citizens tried not to focus on any bad things with her around._

"_Yeah," his friend Ethan responded, "but thankfully Prince Siegfried and some of his knights were nearby."_

_Princess Sylvia perked up._

"_They curbed the attacks enough for King Marius to restore the barrier's strength," Ethan continued._

_Leopold gave a weak smile; __"I almost wish I wasn't part of the next group to bring them rations – the crows are probably still hanging around…"_

_The Princess stepped forward; __"When is this?"_

_Both of them jumped, nearly dropping their load._

"_P-princess!" Leopold stammered._

"_Princess Tutu!" Ethan said simultaneously, then gave a slightly awkward bow, joined by Leopold; "We did not see you; forgive us-""_

"_Please," she interrupted, "there is no need. I did not make myself apparent. Now, when is this ration group leaving?""_

_The two boys looked at each other; __"Later this afternoon, before the crows start gathering." Ethan supplied._

_Princess Sylvia noticed Kurt__'s eyes resting on her, and quickly smiled at the other two; "I see. Are you both going?"_

_Ethan and Leopold shook their heads; __"Just… just me, Princess," Leopold managed to get out._

"_Well, that is very brave of you," she said earnestly; "I wish you well in the journey."_

_Leopold simply stared at her, unable to respond. Ethan shifted their timbers a bit, nudging Leopold in the process. Leopold finally snapped back; __"Th-thank you, Princess Tutu!" he said hurriedly._

_Princess Sylvia glanced at Kurt; he was busy with the armor again. __"Oh, I am sorry for keeping you. Where are you taking your load?"_

"_Ah… A house… Erm," Leopold faltered, glancing down the street._

"_Inger's house, just down the street, Princess," Ethan responded, before Leopold could try to finish answering._

"_Might I accompany you so as to not hold you back from your duties?" She asked._

_Leopold stood up straighter, as did Ethan, although not as quickly. __"If you so wish, Princess," Ethan replied._

_Princess Sylvia briefly looked at Kurt, who seemed to have overheard enough, and he gave a brief nod to her. She smiled and began walking down the road; Ethan and Leopold followed suit, and she let them take the lead._

_This was possibly her chance, she thought, one of the few she could have at actually helping preserve the kingdoms._

"No…" Fakir mumbled, as he saw the thoughts form in her head.

_Yes, she was going to do this. She took a breath to calm herself, and matched Leopold__'s pace. "Where does this afternoon's group leave from?" She said softly._

_Leopold he knew that if he dared look at her, he would probably trip or forget to speak again. __"From the third gate," he said quietly, matching her tone, continuing to watch the road; "We gather at the church first, but we exit… at the third gate."_

"_Might I be able to meet you and your party on your way out?"_

_Leopold nearly tripped anyway, even before he glanced incredulously at her; __"O-of course! I- I, I mean, yes, Princess!"_

_Princess Sylvia glanced around and briefly put a finger to her lips; __"You mustn't tell anyone; my father would never let me see a party off that was about to leave the gates. He prefers me closer to the castle at those times. But I can help more than he thinks me capable of."_

_Leopold was tempted to ask if she oughtn__'t follow her father's wishes, but he was too struck with the situation to articulate his concern. Before he could compose himself any more, they were arriving at the house._

"_I will meet you all at the church," she said quietly, then she resumed normal talking tones as they paused at the door; "I'm so sorry, I have been with you both this whole time and do not even know your names. What is your name?" she asked Leopold._

"_I'm… Leopold."_

_The Princess turned to Ethan expectantly._

_Ethan bowed his head, as his arms were still full with the wood; __"I am Ethan, Princess."_

_She smiled; __"Thank you both for your hard work; the kingdoms need all the help that can be offered." Both of them nodded in return, and she gave a curtsy. They both bowed together as she returned the way they had come._

_Princess Sylvia smiled wider to herself; she would find a way to be more helpful, one way or another._

Fakir let out a breath. He knew she was going to try something entirely idiotic: sneaking out to help take rations to Prince Siegfried and his men. It was risky, but at least she wasn't going to do something _too_ incredibly stupid, like try to join the fighting. "She had better not, anyway…"

"Quack?"

"Oh," Fakir said, caught a bit off guard; he had forgotten he wasn't alone; "Just… a character… person…" he said awkwardly, trying to figure out the best term. He had tried to avoid thinking about it before.

Duck narrowed her eyes at him.

"More so a person!" Fakir quickly amended, ""But, I'm talking about a character… And they've already… I mean…" he sputtered; he wasn't really sure how to explain it. "Just… Nevermind."

Duck got up, but was more interested in the papers he'd set down. He thought of letting her see them, but then realized that almost every other paragraph had the name 'Princess Tutu' in it. He hadn't explained to her that he was writing a story, and he realized it would be confusing to explain that Princess Tutu wasn't her, but the persona in the original story. He moved the papers closer to himself. "It's… not concerned with you."

Duck gave him another look, irritated. As if she were saying, 'So what? Let me see it!'

Fakir still hesitated; "… I need to get more written on it."

Duck intensified her look.

Fakir glared defensively back; "I'll let you know when I have more done, but it would just confuse you right now."

"Quack!" She responded indignantly.

"I didn't say you were stupid," Fakir retorted, readily able to guess her words, "I said I need to write more."

Duck looked at him hard, narrowing her eyes. Fakir wasn't budging; the last thing he needed was pressure to make this background story into something it was never intended to be. Once he had finished it, then he would show it to Duck, and she would understand it was just him getting better at writing. That was it. Not helping her, yet, or changing anything, but simply practicing. And somewhat giving the persona of Tutu a distinct personality…

"…Quack," Duck said eventually, then turned herself around and deliberately faced away from him, plopping herself down. 'Fine.'

Fakir sighed; he was becoming slightly worried at how good he was getting at interpreting Duck. Albeit, he kind-of had to if he was going to spend any amount of time with her and not get frustrated with her main form of communication. But he also sometimes found himself interpreting other birds similarly, if he watched them. Maybe that was what happened when you spent all of your spare time at a pond. And in the library. You started interpreting more frequently. Or maybe it was because he was focusing on writing more that he was noticing small details. Details were wonderful for better writing. If he could work them in, anyway… Research helped with that.

Research. Curses, his paper was due soon, wasn't it? He should probably get back on that…

… Right after this next bit.


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Four

"_I'm just going to see them off," Princess Sylvia insisted, "They have no one but themselves to give them courage before they face the outside, and possibly even the crows. What better way to inspire confidence than their Princess having faith in them? If I am as helpful as you say that I am, that is."_

"_The people already know you have faith in them," Kurt responded, "They see you among them every day, dancing, listening, and encouraging them. What difference would it make if you put yourself at risk-"_

"_What risk is there in being where I normally am? I am in town every day, and the party is leaving at possibly the least dangerous time. I would just be nearer the gates instead of further within-"_

"_We both know that that is not your full plan, my Princess," Kurt interjected. Princess Sylvia was stunned into silence. "Though you may sincerely be planning to help them, I can tell that a simple speech is not your whole intent." He looked at her long and hard, and she turned to avoid his scrutiny. "… But while I may not know your whole plan, I do know that your desires are pure."_

_She looked back at him hopefully. __"Then surely, Kurt, you must understand-"_

"_What I do _not_ understand, my Princess,__" Kurt continued, "is why you continue to believe that everything you do is never enough. Surely, you understand that your position does not allow you to contribute in the same way as everyone else."_

_The Princess stood up straighter. __"… It is _because_ I am their Princess,__" she asserted, "Because they know their King is protecting them, but is unable to see them directly, so he sends his daughter in his stead. Because they need a princess who is willing to support them in all things. Because there are people out there sacrificing every day for their kingdom, for all the kingdoms, and I have sacrificed nothing! What good is a princess who will give her people nothing?"_

"_But you _have_ made sacrifices, my Princess.__" Kurt contended, "You give so much of your time to the people every day."_

"_Time given to the people is not a sacrifice," She said steadily._

"_That is a noteworthy answer, my Princess," Kurt responded, "But it is a sacrifice; especially when you still have not completed your training to be a queen."_

"_You know that such training was put on hold once the war started in earnest."_

"_That does not diminish its value, my Princess," he continued, "You could be meeting with other kingdoms' emissaries and continue your training, or try to negotiate since your father cannot waver his attention. You could even study in the libraries on your own, as you once did before the war. But you give your time to the people."_

_Princess Sylvia__'s heart panged; "Do you not think I would go to other kingdoms if I had the choice, Kurt? Do you not think I would readily meet with others if they could come-" She cut herself off, then calmed her speech; "I will do everything I can to end this war. I cannot go to other kingdoms, just as they cannot come to us. They have either fallen to the Raven, or are too far for safe travel. You know this. The people need as much support as possible, and I will give them as much as I can. I am not asking, but telling you that that is what I must do. Please, Kurt; allow me to do that much."_

_Kurt was silent for a while. He studied the Princess__' determined face, and contemplated. At length, he finally spoke; "I will inform King Marius secretly that you only plan on giving the people an inspiring speech. As long as it is not publicized, he may allow it.""_

_Princess Sylvia__'s face lit up with a smile, and she immediately threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank you Kurt!"_

"_But I will go with you, and stay with you, through whatever the rest of your plan is."_

_Her face softened; __"Oh Kurt, I could not ask you-"_

"_You are not asking me, my Princess;" Kurt replied, "I am telling you." He grinned a little._

_Princess Sylvia gave a small smile in return. She decided not to tell him the rest of her plan until they got to the gates. It would hopefully be easier to convince him to go with her outside the walls if he didn__'t have much time to think about it._

Fakir paused. How _were_ they going to get out of the gate…? The magical barrier must be very strong to keep out the Raven this long, despite its weakened state. King Marius stayed in the castle to equally support all of the wall… But the barrier had to open for the ration groups. The ration and supplies parties to the outside were at least a daily thing, if not twice daily. Depending on what they had ready to take out, too…

He heard a bell ring. He would have to plan this out more after class.


	6. Assessing

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Assessing

Fakir had done more research and planning, but convinced himself to finish his analysis paper before writing on the story more. It was slightly off-putting, but he did still have school responsibilities. He sighed as he finally put his things away, and rose to leave the library. However, as he turned, there was someone in his way.

"You. Come talk with me. Now," Autor said quietly.

"Why?" Fakir responded automatically.

"You know why."

Fakir's face turned slightly in confusion, but Autor did not give him time to reply before turning and walking away. Fakir wasn't sure what this was about, and he disliked Autor's vagueness, but that also meant there could be many reasons for it. He hoped that it wasn't another admonition about not writing; the guilt trips only made him want to get back at Autor, which he wouldn't allow to be an option, he was better than that. He hated that Autor got under his skin so easily, and Autor didn't even have to try. But Fakir knew Autor still remembered Duck, and everything else. Therefore he would still be aware of other happenings, if there were any. So Fakir followed him, albeit reluctantly.

They entered a study room and Autor closed the door.

"You have been writing or doing research on a fairly consistent basis for the past thirteen days," Autor began, "and nothing unusual has yet occurred. There have been no strange stories or creatures popping up, nor sudden changes in personality that nobody can explain, nor any miracles suddenly deciding to happen."

"… Is that it?" Fakir asked.

Autor looked at him. "'Is that 'it'? Well, actually yes, but you're missing the point. _You_ have been _writing_; _something_ should be happening. And I highly doubt that your writing has gotten good enough to blend seamlessly with reality."

"I was writing a paper for class," Fakir said flatly.

"That's not all you've been writing," Autor persisted.

Fakir narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn't say anything. Autor had helped him get his writing going, and improved it as well. Fakir knew Autor could still help him improve greatly. But their approaches to the subject were vastly different. This current bit of writing he was working on was his own exploration, not something to be scrutinized and torn to pieces by Autor. That had been his mistake with his first few attempts at writing after things had returned to 'normal'. He persisted for a while, trying to negate some of Autor's more extreme methods, but it couldn't continue. Eventually, Fakir simply didn't show Autor his writing at all. But that hadn't helped his writers' blocks. This story was going better, he still had flow, and he didn't want to ruin its motion by interrupting it. Maybe after he was done, he would have Autor point out some problems, and at that point he could filter what was really important. But for the moment, he wanted to avoid the pressure while he could.

Autor pushed his glasses further up his face. "I hope you realize what you are doing, writing without an editor. I mean, I can tolerate you writing without my continual guidance, at least a little, but your lack of concern about supervision concerns me."

"Not everything I write becomes a part of reality," Fakir reminded him.

"Obviously. You've been attempting to write for a while now, and nothing substantial has yet changed. But now you're being more consistent about it," Autor continued, "And you're not brooding and hiding papers away in frustration. It's almost as if you're actually being inspired again. I can only assume that, since nothing in the town seems to have changed, you aren't writing about Goldcrown. Which is dangerous, considering that means you're writing about something you haven't the slightest ideas about. Which is why you've been doing research, I'm sure, although much less than you should be doing considering your knowledge base."

"I know about more than you think I do." Fakir retorted. He had been getting better about reducing snarky comebacks, but talking with Autor was the exception. Especially right now – Fakir didn't _want_ to discuss anything with him.

"Oh, I'm sure, because you've actually left the town before! Oh wait, that's right, you _haven__'t_."

Fakir bristled; "Neither have you."

"No, but I've done far more reading than you have, I can guarantee."

"I don't have to listen to this." Fakir said, then turned and started walking towards the door. This was ridiculous, he didn't have to stand there and endure a lecture on what he wasn't doing right. He _knew_ that he had problems, but he was fixing them. On his own. He didn't need-

"With the potency of your power, you should really be more careful." Autor continued, undeterred; "Especially since you refuse to observe the direct effects of your writing; I thought you of all people would be more worried about who is affected."

Fakir paused; "… I don't need to see the effects of this piece." He was writing about the past, about people he had never met, people who didn't even show up in the main story except for one, and only for a few lines. Mostly. He didn't even know a way he _could_ see the effects.

Autor smiled; "Oh? Well that's quite ambitious! Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you take more after Drosselmeyer than I thought."

Fakir whirled around; "I am _nothing_ like him!"

"Aren't you?" Autor responded; "Your confidence seems to suggest so."

Fakir glared at Autor; "Confidence is different than arrogance." And he really had neither when it came to writing, but he was trying to build up the former. Autor wasn't helping.

Autor shrugged. "Call it what you will. You didn't even have the guts to keep writing under my tutelage, and yet now here you are, writing and secreting it away from me."

"I haven't shown it to _anyone_, so don't feel so special!"" Fakir snapped.

"Well, _that__'s_ one thing that hasn't changed, at least," Autor commented, then shifted to a more serious look; "But really, haven't you learned _anything_? Your writing affects reality, whether you want it to or not. _You__'re_ the one who wanted to 'take responsibility' for your writing. Aren't you going to at least let somebody know what you're responsible _for_?"

"What I'm writing should have no effect on this town," Fakir said, albeit wavering a little in his resolve. He wasn't going to change the past, so he wasn't going to change the present.

"Oh, I beg to differ," Autor countered; "_Everything_ seems to affect this town, for one. It's a peculiarity I've noticed since I was small, while I'm sure you were too busy pretending to protect the Prince. For two, you of all people should know better than to fall into the delusion of ignorance; just because you fail to notice the effects doesn't make them any less real."

Fakir pursed his lips; Autor didn't know what he was writing about. The story's past was one of the few things Fakir felt he could count on to be safe. Probably. But, Autor was right about one thing: Fakir hadn't read as many books as Autor. Certainly not regarding Goldcrown, at least. So, Fakir could be affecting… something. But not very much. Probably. His research materials hadn't changed, after all. Sure, he was writing about Princess Tutu, or specifically Princess Sylvia, but he wasn't changing her fate, he wasn't changing her personality. If anything, he might be making the obscure people within the story love her more. Which no one outside of the story would notice.

But still, this town was inextricably linked to the story. There was a chance that something was happening, somewhere. And Autor would be the one to find it.

"… Fine," Fakir eventually allowed, "I'll show it to you when I'm done."

"But by that time, it'll be too late."

"No, it won't!" Fakir maintained, but he felt the pressure of Autor's words. And his eyebrows, as they lifted at him in expectancy. "… I'm writing about the past. It doesn't matter."

Autor looked genuinely surprised. "… Oh dear," he said after a moment, in his annoying disappointed-in-your-incompetence voice; "you seem to be even more ambitious than I thought. Or just more foolish. Do you _realize_ what you could do?"

"I'm not _changing_ it," Fakir insisted, ""I'm just…" He tried to think; what _was_ he doing? Reporting it? That sounded too dry, and he _was_ making it up. Within reason. "… filling in some gaps."

Autor laughed; out-rightly laughed at him. "And you think that doesn't involve changing anything?"

Fakir clenched his teeth; "Even you said that nothing has changed in town."

"That I can find," Autor elaborated, pushing his glasses up again, "but that doesn't exclude everything, even though there is very little I wouldn't notice." Autor looked at Fakir more seriously; "But does that mean that you _are_ writing about Goldcrown?"

Fakir scowled and looked away; he hadn't meant to give away so much. He _wasn__'t_ writing about Goldcrown, but now he was worried that he still might affect it. Characters had escaped from The Prince and The Raven, and he was adding on to that story. Things were fixed _now_, but hopefully he wasn't changing what had already happened… No, he was sure he was still well within the bounds of the past. Not that Autor would care.

"So you _are_? Well, I would say I'm a little impressed, if I knew what exactly you were writing about. You could just be writing a sad little story about somebody who fought in a war in years past, based on the books you've been looking at. But that would be too close to home, now, wouldn't it?" Autor smirked as Fakir's face refused to change. Now he was trying to annoy him. "Or maybe you're writing about the family left behind? A short piece describing their reactions as they receive the news their brave knight has fallen in battle?"

Fakir clenched a fist. "No; I wouldn't write such a pointless piece."

"Oh, I beg to differ, but whatever you say," Autor continued; "Now, it can't be about anything from more recent times, because the effects would already be obvious. No landmarks have conflicting histories, but I'll go ahead and check over the town's history books again later. You haven't been rewriting any historical documents, have you?"

"Of course not."

"Yes, I suppose that _would_ be a bit premature…" Autor folded his arms, then analyzed Fakir; "… Have _you_ noticed anything odd?"

Fakir briefly thought of the time it seemed like Princess Sylvia had heard him, but that had been taken care of quickly and easily. And she did have a tendency to ruminate – she could have just been thinking too hard. That didn't count; Fakir hadn't noticed anything else. "… No," he replied.

Autor scoffed; "Figures. I suppose that doesn't mean much. How far are you in the story?"

Autor really had a thing for questioning. And getting on Fakir's nerves. "I don't feel the need to answer that."

"Ha!" Autor barked; "Well that's enough answer for _that_. This is just going to be another failed attempt that doesn't even get past its beginning, isn't it? Or maybe you'll leave it floundering midway through?"

Fakir glowered at Autor; fine, he would answer one more question. "… I'm getting close to half-way." Probably. He hadn't really planned that far yet. But he knew the ending, and it couldn't be that far off. Things were still moving at a steady pace, after all.

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_," Fakir asserted, "Now if you're _done_, I'm going to go turn in my paper." He headed towards the door again.

"You know the risks of your talent, Fakir," Autor persisted, "I'm offering to help you."

Fakir paused; "If anything starts changing, let me know."

Autor pressed his lips together in a displeased fashion; "It would be much easier to do that if I knew what I was looking for!"

Fakir ignored the comment and left.


	7. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Five

Fakir looked at the papers he had accumulated thus far. He had some ideas about where he was going. But Autor had made him paranoid. He had gone on a walk around the town to make sure things were still normal, although he didn't even know what he was looking for. But he had taken Duck back early and asked her to stay inside all the same. He wasn't writing about Goldcrown, he was writing about a tiny kingdom in The Prince and The Raven that was barely holding together. The only character he was writing who had even made it through to this world was Princess Tutu, and he certainly hadn't changed anything about her. Nor was he going to. So why was he getting so anxious about his writing again?! Fakir sighed, putting a hand to his face tiredly. He had been trying to avoid this feeling…

It made sense that he would be worried. But there was no evidence that what he was doing now was changing anything, even by Autor's standards, and he already knew the ending. Nothing was going to change. Princess Tutu, Sylvia, would still turn into a speck of light. Her spirit would still be connected to a heart shard. Things were still going to be locked in an eternal battle after he finished his piece. Even thinking about modifying the battle felt too complicated to worry about.

… How had that happened, anyway? Tutu being connected to a heart shard. Princess Tutu had obviously existed before the Prince shattered his heart, as Sylvia, and it seemed that the Prince was oblivious to her affections. So why would she become linked to the shards? Fakir remembered the idea he'd had earlier regarding a witch of some sort. Maybe the witch had cursed her to become part of the Prince's heart? Fakir frowned; that would be a strange curse. But then again, it would also prevent Sylvia from ever sharing her feelings – or at least try to. Yes, that made sense; a witch becomes angry with Sylvia, knows her mainly as Princess Tutu because of the citizens calling her that, and then places the curse. Then, when Sylvia shares her feelings to Prince Siegfried later, she turns into a speck of light and instead of disappearing completely, becomes bound to the Prince's heart. Or encased in it, since she's light. And her role in helping to gather the shards later could possibly come from… her intense desire to help him? So much that it transcends even death? Er, transformation… kind-of death? Not exactly, because Duck would turn into her in Goldcrown, but it's not like they were exactly the same person…

But first, back to the story. Where would the witch come from? Who could have such feelings as to curse the Princess? Was it hatred? So far, he had only seen good opinions of the Princess. Jealousy often made bitter enemies, though. He had certainly seen that himself. And what girl wouldn't be jealous of the Princess, without knowing about the curse? Or, before the curse was even placed. The only bad thing that had been mentioned about her in Drosselmeyer's book was her curse, despite how little was said of her. And her idiotic selflessness, of course, but that was something he'd learned more about through experience than was specifically mentioned.

But there was a war going on. All the people were trying to preserve the kingdoms and their rulers, not create more problems. Unless the witch wasn't thinking about that at the time of the curse. But what could incite that…?

Oh. Oooh. Fakir tightened his expression slightly as things started connecting in his head. He thought for a few more moments, then dipped his pen in ink.

_A young woman with two brown braids fell into step beside Leopold as he returned home before meeting with the expedition group. __"Hello Leopold," she said smilingly. He seemed not to hear her. After waiting for a reply, she frowned and pushed him a little. "Hey!"_

_He came back to reality. __"Oh, sorry."_

"_I know you're worried about going outside the wall, but you don't have to ignore me."_

"_I didn't see you," he defended, "And I have more to worry about than you would; I don't do magic!"_

"… _Are you really that worried about it?" she asked._

_Leopold sighed; __"I… I guess? I don't know. Probably not; I think I just want to get it done with." He was also slightly more nervous because Princess Tutu would be sending their group off in person, but she had asked him not to mention that._

"_I could make you a special charm."_

"_You make everyone charms, Marie. That's part of your job."_

"_Yes, but I could make you a _special_ one!__" she insisted, grasping one of his hands._

_He smiled as he squeezed her hand; __"Thank you, but really, I'll be fine. As long as you make your other charms as good as you say you do."_

_Marie pretended to be offended; __"Well! If that's how you feel, maybe you should give yours to someone else instead._

_Leopold laughed a little nervously; __"You know I don't mean it."_

"_So… do you want me to make you one?" Marie eventually asked again, "A special charm?"_

"_No," Leopold repeated, "You know your normal work is potent enough. And besides-" he cut off, remembering that he shouldn't mention Princess Tutu's plan._

_Mare waited expectantly; __"Besides, what?"_

"_And besides… I trust your normal work completely, too," he tried to cover._

_Marie didn__'t buy it. "And…?" Leopold grimaced and tried to slip his hand out of hers, but Marie gripped him firmly. "What else?"_

"_Umm…" Leopold stalled. He really wanted to tell her about Princess Tutu, not only because it was an important appearance, but because of Marie's look. But it was to be a surprise, or at least not spread around, from how secretive Princess Tutu had been. And she had told him that he couldn't tell _anyone_. He hadn__'t even told Ethan when he asked what the Princess was whispering about. Leopold had just said she was wishing them all luck, and was worried about the people. He couldn't make an exception, even for Marie. "Just… pay attention at the send-off, ok?"_

_Marie pursed her lips. __"Pay attention to what?"_

"_To… the people."_

"_Alright…" she drew out, "_that's_ rather vague.__"_

"_Well, I can't really say anything else."_

"_What?" she asked, affronted, "Why not?"_

"_I just…" he sputtered, "I can't!""_

_Marie dropped his hand. __"Why not?" she said more seriously._

"_I can't!" he repeated, "I said I wouldn't!"_

"_Leopold!"_

"_I'm sorry, Marie! Really!" Leopold defensively apologized, "But… I can't! You'll be there anyway. Just… keep your eyes open!_

_Marie folded her arms. __"I don't like this, Leopold."_

"_And I wasn't going to bring it up!"_

"_What is '_it'_?__"_

"_I can't say!" Leopold sighed; "I'm sorry, Marie. I… I'll try not to get sworn into secrecy without your permission again."_

_Marie twisted her mouth. __"… Fine then." Marie stopped walking._

_Leopold continued around a corner, but turned to look back at her briefly; __"I'll see you in a little bit, Marie."_

_Marie waved, but didn__'t say anything. Then she continued on to her own house to grab the charms._

Fakir glanced around him, analyzing. His paranoia had decreased while he wrote, but still lingered. Nothing about Goldcrown seemed to have changed. The survey satisfied him and his mind for now. Of course, with this bit of writing, almost nothing in the story seemed to have changed, either. But character introduction wasn't always the most exciting thing, even for the characters. Apparently.

The sun was starting to head down in the west, and Fakir wanted to do one more round of the town before nightfall. Not as intensive as earlier, probably, but he still wanted to double-check. He had some ideas to work on, but he could work on them by lamplight. He gathered his things and set off.


	8. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Six

_Princess Sylvia generally wore her blue cloak in town. If there was an expedition going out near this time, she would continue her dancing in another part of town, staying out of the way of those preparing to leave and far from the opening gates. The expeditions had become so routine that hardly anyone except those closest to the ones leaving attended send-offs. Near the beginning of their expeditions, almost the entire town would send the groups off. But they didn__'t have the time for such things now. Everyone knew that good luck and speed was wished to them by all, and the essential protection charms were always provided by the town's healers._

_King Marius preferred that the Princess remain close to or in the castle whenever he allowed the gates to be opened, but he had been allowing her to dance in far corners of the town lately. Having her closer made him feel safer, and more secure about her safety, but was too tired to argue much. He still hadn__'t been pleased when Kurt had told him about Princess Sylvia's plans to attend the send-off. Given the short notice, though, he felt he didn't have much choice in the matter. At least she wasn't trying something too brash, the king thought to himself as Kurt assured him he would stay close to the Princess at all times. Like rallying the entire town to go outside, or trying to get more people to fight. She knew the risks, but she also cared very much for everyone, outside and inside the gates; King Marius knew that much about his daughter. So he ushered Kurt off, and waited for the signal of the expedition's exit._

_He would need to allow a portion of the magical barrier to fall, but only a small part of it temporarily. He would allow some more time to talk today, but he still had a task ahead of him. There would be guards watching to make sure nothing entered or exited except those who were taking the supplies, and he would be alerted if anything happened. By this point in the war, he was glad for the extra eyes. His magic showed his weariness. Not that the townspeople noticed, or at least they pretended not to. The few knights remaining at the castle and the gates certainly did well hiding their worries. They never pressed him to let them do their jobs, or requested that he take breaks, except with their concerned glances. Only Sir Kurt would tell him verbally. Kurt was usually with Princess Sylvia though, so King Marius only had to endure the mild scoldings at brief intervals. King Marius would tolerate the boldness for his daughter__'s safety, and he knew Kurt only said such things out of worry. Whether it was worry for the kingdom, for King Marius himself, or for Princess Sylvia's future, King Marius couldn't ever quite tell. Now if only the blasted war would end, he would finally have the energy to show Kurt his appreciation…_

Fakir opened the lamp a little bit more, to increase the light over his workspace. Darkness was falling quickly, and he didn't want to have to break off in the middle of a sentence because he couldn't see what he was writing. The lamp seemed to gladly accommodate.

_Leopold nervously fidgeted with his brown cloak as he made his way to the open cobblestone space in front of the church. He relaxed a little when he saw Marie in her brown cloak, handing out the protection charms. Leopold got in the line, murmured greetings, and smiled as she came to him._

"_I still haven't seen who you were talking about," Marie said conversationally as she handed him a small bag with angelica root and a triquetra symbol. He knew that there were spells surrounding the bag to grant further protection, but it was still nice to have something physical to hold on to._

_Leopold glanced around, although he had already seen that Princess Tutu wasn__'t there yet. "There is still some time. Just wait."_

_Marie scrunched her nose at him before moving on. He knew she didn__'t like to be kept in the dark. She had also offered to go out with the whole group this time, mostly to accompany him. But eventually she had been convinced that she was needed more inside of the gates. He wanted to tell her that if Princess Tutu was sending them off herself, then there was no _way_ they could meet with problems while outside. But he always had more faith in the Princess than Marie did. And he couldn__'t tell her about Princess Tutu coming, anyway._

_Eventually, Marie gave out all of the charms, and was making her way back to Leopold. He had picked up his ration packs to take out, and continued glancing around. Finally, he saw two people approaching. Relieved, Leopold walked in their direction. He didn__'t see Marie frown briefly as she followed him._

_Princess Sylvia was easily recognizable by her white hair, although given the bright blue color of her cloak, anyone could still easily point her out. Kurt was wearing his usual brown cloak. It was not unusual to see them around town, but the group gathered currently began to murmur._

_Leopold gave a bow as they met. __"It is an honor, Princess Tutu!"_

_The Princess smiled and curtsied. The head of the expedition was not far behind Leopold, and bowed as well. __"Princess! I am sorry, but we did not know you were coming. If-"_

"_That was the intention," she cut him off as she came out of another curtsy, "so please do not fret about what was meant to happen.""_

_The man looked somewhat confused; __"… And to what do we owe the grace of your presence, Princess Tutu? Not that your appearance isn't appreciated, but, I must say, it hasn't happened in a long time."_

_Kurt looked at Princess Sylvia as well, waiting for her to respond._

_She looked down the path to the gate, and her smile fell briefly. Then, her eyes met the leader__'s again. "I want to help everyone as much as I can. You all are being so brave and wonderful. Since I am not allowed outside with you, I thought that perhaps I could offer some encouragement before you all leave. I'm afraid I'm not very good at much else."_

_Everyone seemed rather taken aback by the statement; the leader, Kurt, and Leopold began arguing otherwise._

"_Princess, that is hardly true-"_

"_My Princess, you can't-"_

"_No! Princess, that isn't-"_

"_Please;" she interrupted all of them, some wistfulness in her eyes, "won't you let me do at least this much?"_

_They fell silent, and parted to make room for the Princess to step forward. She smiled at them, glanced briefly at Kurt, and then took the offered position. There was no need to make an announcement; her sudden appearance had garnered enough attention to focus all eyes on her. She looked around at all the people present. Almost all of them had cloaks and ration packs on, and those who didn__'t were standing near the ones they cared for. She envied their ability to give their services. But she also realized they might envy her for not having to leave the gates, ever. That made her heart pang once more, and she boldly spoke out._

"_You all are blessed. I know that you may think otherwise, especially given that the war has lasted long enough to require even you to take on the burdens of defending your homes and families. But I tell you, it is a privilege to be among you. Only five years ago, I had no idea that our kingdom could be threatened in any way. Four years ago, I did not realize how serious that threat could become. And within the past year, I have realized how strong our people are. When my father sealed our dwindling kingdom behind his magic, it was you all who came to him and requested to give service to those fighting outside. It was you who saw the need of aid and wished to fill it. My father is wise enough to know that when his people set their minds to something, they can and _will_ do it. You all are proof of that! Despite the fact that everyone has stopped celebrating these expeditions, despite the dangers that always lie in braving the outside, you all continue to do it! I want you all to be aware of the strength of your sacrifices, of your bravery, and to be proud of it! You all could easily ignore the world beyond our gates with the barrier in place, but you do not. You all could have easily asked someone else to go outside in your place, but you did not. You have all _chosen_ to assist at this time, helping those defending not only our kingdom, but all the surrounding kingdoms! Their families! Your families! I am proud to be called your princess, and I wish that I could do more for you. But know this: I believe in all of you, with all of my heart! You do not let your fears or doubts get in the way of your service, and I admire that.__"_

_It was silent for a few moments, and then she continued; __"I know that my father shares my sentiments, or else he would not spend all his energy trying to protect us and accommodate these expeditions. Now, while I cannot offer much more than my belief and pride, there is another who can offer more solid words. Sir Kurt has seen more of the world than I, and certainly encountered more of what may be found outside. So I will ask that my friend address you now." She curtsied, and looked at Kurt. It was one of the few times that she had seen his face so surprised, and she almost laughed. But before she could lose composure, she heard applause. She turned back to face the crowd, and everyone was clapping for her. She had somewhat expected as such, for that reaction usually followed whenever she spoke publicly, but given the sparse amount of people, it felt very… resounding. As she looked around, she thought she saw a few tears glistening. The Princess smiled, and gave one more curtsy before moving back and ushering Kurt forward._

_He had composed himself more, and was also clapping as he came forth. Then, he cleared his throat and the clapping died down. __"I, for one, am grateful that we have the privilege of having Princess Sylvia for our princess. I am sure many of you feel the same way. But that does not change the fact that you all will be facing the outside. Now I know that everyone has been briefed regarding what could happen, and what to do in emergencies. Given the pertinence, I am also sure you all have reviewed your training. However, I also know that the basic training provided is not something many of you practice regularly, nor is it complete enough in my opinion. I am going to tell you a few…"_


	9. Chapter Six Continued

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Six Continued

Fakir then realized that Sylvia's plan wouldn't work. Albeit, he'd had doubts about it since the beginning, but he'd imagined that something would come up to help. It was nearly time, though, and he saw absolutely no way of it working. But maybe if he waited a little longer…

_Princess Sylvia half-listened to Kurt__'s words; she was more anxious to have him finish so she could tell him the rest of her plan. __She-_

No; Kurt would never allow her to leave the gates, and she was still counting on his support. Fakir swore to himself; now what? Would he need to go back and rewrite? How far? He quickly scanned a good portion of his writing. If he was going to change things, he might have to go back a ways… But what would he change?

Thinking more, he realized that Princess Sylvia would probably still have her current plan, despite the fact that _he_ could easily see it would fail. She was determined and blinded by her focus – she still thought it would work out. He would have to get someone else involved to make another plan, if it was to be a successful one, and quickly. Kurt was definitely out – he was the main problem, in fact. He was her protector, it was his duty to keep her _out_ of danger. How did Fakir not address this problem earlier?!

As Fakir frantically thought of what might or might not work, he paused; _why_ was it so important that Sylvia get outside of the gates? Would she actually be able to be of any help? She could do nothing more than what she did for the townspeople inside. Sure, going outside might be one way to incite Marie, if she was going to be who he thought she was. But maybe she wasn't. And honestly, he hadn't planned that far ahead yet, not in detail. Non-details could be re-arranged, or performed a different way; that's why they weren't detailed yet, right? Fakir sighed in partial relief as he sat with a pen again; he was really just putting off the problem, but that would at least give him more time to think on it. "It's pointless to go outside the gate, really," he muttered as he began writing again.

_The Princess glanced around and frowned a little; it was _not_'pointless' to go outside! She had just given a speech about how important it was, and she felt it all sincerely! There was no one around her to say otherwise, but she was sure she had heard someone._

Fakir tightened his lips as he finished the sentence, and silently cursed again. That meant the last times this had happened hadn't been coincidence, either. He would have to watch what he said while writing, apparently. It would be best if he just stayed quiet, but it wasn't exactly a habit he was aware of doing frequently. He would just have to be more careful.

_Princess Sylvia let her eyes rest on a random cobblestone as Kurt continued talking. Maybe the person she had heard had been herself again__…? Maybe she was nervous about her plan to go outside the gates. Which made sense; she hadn't been allowed outside since the barrier was put up, even before then, really. But now was not the time to question her resolve; she was going to go outside and help bring rations to Prince Siegfried and his men! The people would surely welcome her help; Kurt would understand once she told him, especially since it would be so short notice. His coming along would also exemplify greater support._

Fakir had to hold his tongue. But it felt like someone else didn't.

"_Why were you looking around just now, Princess?" A voice whispered nearby. The Princess jumped a little and almost smacked heads with the young woman standing immediately beside her. "I'm sorry, Princess;" Marie continued softly, "but I couldn't help noticing."_

_Princess Sylvia smiled sympathetically, and whispered back, __"It's alright. It was nothing, I'm sure."_

"_Were you looking for Leopold?" Marie continued quietly, "Did he invite you here?"_

"_What?" Princess Sylvia asked, putting the name to a face only after thinking for a moment; "No! He told me of the meeting, but I decided to come myself!"_

"_I see..." Marie mused with relief; but her concerned tone returned, "Then… why are you really here, Princess?"_

_Princess Sylvia was struck by her words, and was speechless momentarily. Was it so obvious that she had ulterior motives? __"I… I want to help everyone-"_

"_Forgive my boldness," Marie continued, "but if you really felt so strongly about our people, you would have started coming earlier."_

"_I…" Princess Sylvia tried recovering, "I only did not come because… I was told I would only be in the way, and I believed-"_

_Realization flashed in Marie__'s eyes before the Princess could finish. "It's because of Prince Siegfried, isn't it?"_

_Princess Sylvia felt struck again, and fell silent. She wasn__'t being that obvious, was she? No, she couldn't be, for she didn't even know her reasoning completely herself! Maybe… Kurt was right, and her feelings for Prince Siegfried were obvious to all, except herself and the Prince. But… was he the only reason she was- No, that didn't matter; her speech was true. What mattered was supporting everyone, although that included Prince Siegfried._

"_Since he's out there," Marie continued, watching the Princess face, "you want to help him as much as possible, don't you?"_

"_Of course I do!" Princess Sylvia responded strongly, although continuing to whisper; "And he will know that he can rely on our kingdom!" Her eyes spoke as strongly of her conviction as her voice did, if not more so._

_Marie furrowed her brow somewhat as she studied the Princess__' expression. "… Because of a single ration run? Albeit, it's not been the first we've done, but how is he…?" Marie's eyes widened as she made connections; "… You aren't planning on going _out_ there, are you Princess?__"_

_The Princess didn__'t change her expression, and went back to looking at Kurt as he showed some defensive maneuvers._

_Marie wouldn__'t leave her alone, though. "You do realize what that means, don't you Princess?"_

"_It means that Prince Siegfried and the knights will _know_ that they can count on our aid,__" she replied without turning._

_Marie looked at her in bewilderment for a moment, unsure how to respond. Then, she gave a small smirk._

_Suddenly, Leopold gripped Marie and used her to bring himself closer to both of them; __"No, Princess!" He whispered strongly, and they both turned in surprise; "We can tell the Prince for you!"_

"_Leopold!" Marie hissed as she grasped his hand and pulled him closer to her, trying not to bring so much attention to their conversation. How long had he been listening in? … Had anyone else? They were somewhat apart from the crowd, and the focus was on Kurt, but…_

"_Please, Princess Tutu, do not put yourself at such risk," Leopold continued, not paying much attention to Marie's signals._

"_Did you not hear my words earlier?" Princess Sylvia replied quietly, her eyes intense again; "I intend to offer help to everyone I can, if not as much as you can, then at least in the same places you can."_

_Leopold wanted to argue, and his face clearly showed as much, but when he looked at the Princess, and her conviction, he couldn__'t seem to come up with anything. "But… you're… I mean…"_

_Marie continued holding onto Leopold as she studied the Princess again. She recognized the tone and demeanor of a woman set on her plan. She respected that determination. But she had doubts as to the Princess__' implementation. "… And you think that your personal knight will let you do that?" Marie asked in a low voice._

_Princess Sylvia blinked. __"… Kurt? Of course!" She frowned at Marie's disapproving face. "I'm sure that he will understand-"_

"_No, he won't!" Marie hissed, "Have you _seen_ how closely he guards you? I have never seen you without him being close by! And he was reluctant to even let you come this close to the gate before it opens, wasn__'t he? He won't allow you to go outside, even with his protection."_

_Princess Sylvia frowned at the snag in her plan; __"Then… he will have to obey me-"_

"_No he won't!" Marie continued; "His orders are from your father, to protect you at _all_ costs, right? That overrules even you, Princess.__"_

_Princess Sylvia wanted to respond, but then everyone started clapping as Kurt finished his demonstrations. She joined in, and realized that she didn__'t actually have a reply. The girl was right; Kurt wouldn't listen to her if she told him they were leaving the gates, especially without explicit orders from King Marius. Even against them, really. Her plan was doomed. Despondency with the realization began showing on her face._

"_Princess?" Leopold immediately asked, in a normal voice again to compensate for the clapping, "Princess, we can help- I can tell the Prince of your support, if you wish! Please, Princess…"_

_Marie nudged him to be quiet as Kurt approached._

"_Well, that was an unexpected performance for me, my Princess." Kurt commented as he returned from the distance his demonstrations had taken him, but the levity left his voice as he saw her face. "What is it, my Princess?"_

_Princess Sylvia finally snapped out of her anxiety momentarily; __"What?"_

"_Oh, we were just discussing some magic spells," Marie interjected easily due to her proximity. _

_Kurt immediately turned to Marie; __"And who are you?"_

_Marie stood straighter; __"I am Marie Bazinet, one of the remaining healers and spellcasters. I create the charms for those who go outside."_

_Kurt seemed to recognize the name, and turned back to the Princess. __"Is that what you were talking about, my Princess?"_

_Princess Sylvia knew that she had to abandon her previous plan, despite her determination, and took the escape offered by Marie. __"Y-yes…" she said as she nodded._

_Kurt frowned, unsatisfied. Marie continued; __"I'm afraid that the Princess and I had a minor disagreement. Nothing to try to upset the Princess, of course; I was just… showing her a new way of thinking."_

"_Yes…" the Princess agreed, although still a bit dazedly, "Yes, it's just… my training has not quite gotten that far yet, it seems." She gave a weak smile._

_Kurt still did not like the explanation, but he then moved his questioning gaze to Leopold. __"And are you another healer?"_

"_Oh," Marie interrupted again, pulling Leopold closer, "Leopold was just trying to jump in and explain to us how you did something, for both of us were quite absorbed with our talking and didn't see it done. But even though I didn't see your demonstrations, I'm fairly sure he's got it quite wrong." She smiled at Leopold; "Why don't you try to get it down one more time?" She obligingly moved out of his way so he could get to Kurt. Leopold glanced at her worriedly, but she just nodded and encouraged him. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping you prepare a bit more before you go outside."_

_So Leopold swallowed and stepped forward, setting one of his ration packs down. __"S-so, if I recall correctly…" he started, walking a little ways away to attempt the maneuver. Kurt looked at Marie and the Princess, who both smiled; he didn't change his frown. He stayed put and simply turned around to watch Leopold._

_Marie rolled her eyes and whispered to the Princess, __"See what I mean?" Then she returned to normal speaking tones again; "And that's why it is so tricky to create charms correctly, and why they only last for so long."_

_Princess Sylvia got the hint and went along with it; __"O-oh… I see…" she started, "But… goodness, this is complicated…"_

_Marie went on to explain a few magical terms, items, and their general uses, along with some specifics about the different protection charms. Kurt listened, while he watched Leopold, and tried to see where the problem with all this was. He could feel something was amiss, and it wasn__'t the boy's posture. Although that actually was rather horrid. "No, keep your shoulders back, but don't tense up so much!"_

Fakir straightened up and stretched himself, and was surprised to see how low his lamp was. As he recognized how long he had been writing, and how much he had written over the past hours, his lack of rest caught up with him. He felt his body grasping onto the lapse in idea flow and urging him to go to sleep. He sighed irately, but even as he fought it, he knew that he should get some sleep for the next day. And if he continued in this state, who knew what he might end up writing? That could be very bad. Sure, he wasn't anywhere near the exhaustion that Autor had insisted upon at one time, but Fakir had long since abandoned _those_ methods. And besides, he had reached a stopping point, as odd as it might be. So Fakir picked up the lamp and slowly walked over to his bed. Before long, he was fast asleep.


	10. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Seven

The next day, Fakir jotted some notes in-between classes, and set to work with his ink as soon as he was able. He didn't want to let things sit for too long. He really hadn't had an idea that worked well with him for this long, and he didn't want to let it slip away.

_After a little bit of listening to obscure magic-talk and giving instructions to Leopold from afar, Kurt finally tired of it. __"No, no, you aren't even keeping the right posture!" He finally caved, striding over to help Leopold._

_Marie watched Kurt walk away, and lowered her voice a little again. __"Alright, now Princess, what was your plan exactly? Just to go out and show that our kingdom fully supports those fighting? As a royal, that would be the most obvious message."_

_Princess Sylvia had managed to at least pretend that she wasn__'t thinking about the utter uselessness of her plan until that point, but Marie's words brought it back again. "I…" she started, tearing up a little, "I'm s-"_

"_Princess, do not give in!" Marie admonished her, grabbing her arm supportively; "I know that you want to help, and you still can!"_

_The Princess looked at Marie in shock, but also hope; __"What… What do you mean?"_

_Marie noticed the firm grip she was giving, and quickly let go. __"Sorry, Princess-"_

"_No, please!" Princess Sylvia took Marie's hand pleadingly; "What do you mean I can still help? That I can still exit the gates?"_

_Marie took hold of returned the Princess__' grip, and gave a small smile. "… I believe so, yes. But it will require some magic."_

_Kurt had finally managed to convince Leopold to work more with his body than against it, and backed off. __"Now, just keep that in mind while you're outside."_

"_Y-yes sir!" Leopold managed to say. He hoped that the Princess' spirit was lighter now, for she had looked so… disheartened before. He had easily fumbled his forms for a while, but he could only fake failure for so long, especially since Kurt was not in the best of moods. Leopold wasn't naturally a fighter, but he wasn't stupid. While he definitely had a better grasp of the techniques now, he couldn't keep Kurt away any longer either. Not only that, but the expedition was starting to head towards the gate. "Thank you, Sir Kurt!" He bowed, and when he straightened Kurt was already turned around and heading back. Leopold sighed and followed to pick up his ration pack._

_The Princess__' blue hood and the girl's brown hood were up as Kurt approached. Before he reached them, though, the one in brown knelt down and picked up the extra ration pack, then rushed off past Kurt. Marie had been her name, Kurt recalled. Kurt watched her pass questioningly, but relaxed as she went straight towards Leopold. He turned back to the Princess._

_Leopold was rather confused as Marie walked past his reaching hand, still carrying his pack. He stopped; had she changed her mind again about going on the expedition? Well, if she had, there was no point arguing this late__… He looked longingly back at the Princess, wishing he could say goodbye to her properly, but Kurt was already talking with her, and the expedition group was moving without him. With a disappointed sigh, he waved. Not surprisingly, she didn't seem to notice. So he turned back and rushed to catch up again._

"… _I cannot say that I'm surprised that you were discussing magic, my Princess," Kurt was saying, "but I did not think you were quite so involved with it. Or that this Marie girl would have so much to tell you."_

_The Princess did not respond._

_Kurt waited and frowned momentarily, but moved on, although he watched her closer; __"But the speeches went well. Although, I will say that yours was more elegant than mine, but I do not claim to be a speaker."_

_Still the Princess said nothing. She seemed withdrawn, actually, and possibly a bit morose._

_Kurt sighed, assuming that she was still gloomy about not being able to do more. __"Let us go, my Princess; King Marius would prefer that you not be any nearer the gate when it opens."_

_That was when she finally reacted; __"… The tower. Let us go to the tower."_

_Kurt paused; __"… Which tower?" he asked warily. Her voice sounded a bit tense, as well._

_She turned and pointed towards one of the other gates._

_Kurt pursed his lips; __"My Princess, you know that your father dislikes you being at any of the gate towers at any time, especially during the expeditions."_

"_The barrier will be closed by the time we arrive." She insisted, "And it is not the gate being used."_

_Kurt studied the location of the tower. __"… No, it is not. But if I am correct, it is near the path on which the expedition is headed." He waited a few moments for a response, but made connections despite its absence. His voice softened a little as he continued; "My Princess, it will do them no good for you to stand and watch them, as they cannot see you at such a distance. You have done what you can; not trust the people to do what they can."_

"_I do trust them, but…" she responded, "I want to help. I want to use some magic to help them."_

"… _And what about the barrier?" Kurt brought up._

"_Marie gave me some ideas."_

"… Ideas_?__" Kurt protested; "My Princess, it is unwise to tamper with the barrier based on mere 'ideas'."_

"_They're just protection spells." She countered, "The worst that could happen would be that they get absorbed and reinforce the barrier."_

_Kurt sighed. __"My Princess… I am sorry, but I do not feel comfortable allowing that." He approached her openly; "I know that you-"_

"_I need to do this!" she exclaimed as she recoiled from him._

_Kurt was shocked into silence._

_After a few moments, she added, __"Please."_

_Kurt couldn__'t see her face, but her voice was certainly tight enough for her emotions to get across. He lowered his arms and set his face. "I see… So, this was your whole plan, then? To get close to the gates with permission, somewhat, and push the limits of your father's patience?"_

_Her silence answered him clearly enough._

"_I should have guessed as much." He sighed again; "I will accompany you if you wish to go to that particular tower, but I do not advise as-" Before he finished, she started walking in the tower's direction. Kurt cut off, and pursed his lips before following. "I hope that that Marie girl gave you good advice, my Princess," Kurt remarked, "because you will be the one justifying this to the King later."_

_She just continued walking determinedly and didn__'t look back._

_Meanwhile, the young woman in the brown hood caught up to the tail end of the expedition. She clutched the single ration pack to herself, and anxiously glanced back. Catching a glimpse of Leopold, she quickly turned back._

_Leopold slowed to match her pace once coming up beside her, and took a little bit to catch his breath._

"_Marie…" he eventually said, "I know that you want to come along, but we already talked about this, with everyone else going, too. You're needed more behind these gate, safe so that you can continue to help keep everyone safe."_

_She didn__'t respond._

"_I mean," he continued, "it's not that you wouldn't be appreciated in the group, and I really wouldn't mind having you along as well. But, but that's not the point! It's just… you're one of the kingdom's best magic users. True, given the time of day, not much is likely to happen on this expedition, but if it did… Ok, you would probably be fine. But…" he flustered, trying to provide a good argument. However, he hadn't been the one to say the final word on the discussion about this before, so he was coming up blank. At length, he sighed in defeat. "… I could still carry my own ration bags," he offered sulkily. She held the bag she had tighter. Leopold readjusted the two bags he had, and fell quiet._

_Soon, they arrived at the gate. The leader performed one last head count to ensure they had all the needed supplies. He frowned as he approached Leopold. __"I thought we discussed this, Marie."_

_She seemed to retreat a little further into her hood, and stood closer to Leopold. Leopold noticed, and offered her his hand. She loosened one hand to take it, but hesitated and quickly gripped the bag with both hands again. Leopold frowned, and the leader scoffed._

"_What _did_ you say to her?__"_

"_Nothing!" Leopold responded defensively, "I mean, I said things, but I didn't mean anything! I mean, I tried to convince her again, but-"_

_The man put up a hand. __"Since this is a low-risk run, I'll let it pass. We don't have time to argue again right now, and I imagine the Princess' speech had some effect. But don't expect to push this forever." She and Leopold nodded. "Do you know the return knock?"_

"_Oh," Leopold answered, "it's three, three, one, right?"_

"_I was asking Marie, but since that's right, I suppose she knows now."_

"_Oh, s-sorry…" Leopold apologized awkwardly._

_The leader dismissed it with a wave of his hand. __"Just remember it."_

_He returned to the front. He nodded at the head guard at the gate, who then called upwards, __"Give the signal!" His order was received, and a guard with flags began signaling the castle. In a little bit, the gate shimmered as a wave of light flashed from the other side of it. As soon as it faded, the gate was unlocked and all party members were ushered through quickly. Once they were all through, the gate was closed and locked. Not long after, the shimmering wave passed over it again. They were now effectively barricaded out until they returned later._

Fakir got up from his desk and walked around a little. His writing sessions were getting longer, and his body wasn't exactly used to it. But that wouldn't deter him in the slightest. And it wasn't like he noticed while he was writing. He had been writing for at least an hour now, maybe a little longer. He glanced outside and was a little surprised at the sun's location; he'd been writing for at least a couple of hours. He backtracked in his memory of the day to get a more accurate idea of the time he'd been writing.

Suddenly, he realized what time it was and froze. If he had been writing for several hours… that meant he had entirely forgotten to take Duck back to Charon's! Not that she wouldn't insist she could manage without him if she really wanted to, but he had told her he would do it, every day. He'd gotten out of class a little early today and thought to write before going back with her. Now here it was, _two hours _or more later…. He swore and immediately put his ink and most of his papers away, except for those still drying. He searched for a bit of bread to apologize with, and eventually found it, of course put away where he'd stored some before. Fakir had the sense to put away the rest of his pages, for they'd dried while he searched, and rushed out the door. He closed it with his momentum, and took off down the hall.

However, before he got very far, he almost collided with another person. Fakir had to practically throw himself to the side, and then spun around to miss hitting the wall. He managed to stop himself without falling over. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" He exclaimed, then paused in recognition.

Autor glared at him. "I could say the same to you, and be more justified!" He straightened his jacket and pushed his glasses back up. "I was just on my way to talk with you, as it turns out."

Fakir went on alert; "Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing," Autor said, "Nothing at all. And I checked over the local record again; things are still fine there as well."

"Then why waste your time coming to tell me that?" Fakir asked.

"Because you are still writing, and a bit more prolifically, from what I've noticed," Autor replied, "The more you write about the past, the greater the possibility that you will affect it. And the fact that you've written this long and I still see no changes has me a bit worried. Either you have suddenly become so masterful at writing as to hide your effects on reality, which I seriously doubt, or your writing has become so dry that nothing changes. If the latter, which is the most likely, you need to be saved from the delusion that such writing is worth much of anything, let alone your time."

Fakir grimaced with frustration; "Maybe there are other options that you're not looking at," he retorted.

Autor raised his eyebrows; "Unlikely."

"Try looking again," Fakir said through gritted teeth, then scoffed; "Whatever. I don't have time for this. If something _actually_ happens, let me know, but until then-"

"Oh, I see," Autor interrupted, noticing the scrap of bread, "You won't take the time to even give me your theme or topic, but you'll share anything with _her_. I suppose I can't really blame you, after all that's happened, but-"

"She doesn't know anything about it either!" Fakir retorted.

"Oh. Well then, you really _are_ keeping this under wraps. Is it that _bad_ that you won't even talk to Duck about it?"

"She knows that I'm writing," Fakir defended, "but I'm not showing her any of it yet. There's… not enough done yet."

"I thought you said you were almost half way?" Autor questioned.

"I am!" Fakir retorted, then tried to regain control of himself; "I told you I'd show you when I was done. Let me make my own progress, Autor."

"Fine, if you think you're making progress," Autor responded, "be my guest. But when you get stuck, I will have to have context in order to help you."

Fakir narrowed his eyes. "Then I won't get stuck."

They stared at each other for a few moments, and then Fakir started to leave.

"Fakir;" Autor said. Fakir paused and looked at him reproachfully. "… Say hello to her for me."

Fakir continued looking at him for a second, then turned and hurried off.


	11. Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Eight

_The expedition__'s members now all had their hoods up as they walked to their destination. The group stayed fairly close together, but two figures stayed consistently at the rear. Whether that was purposeful or not was hard to tell._

_"Um... Marie;" Leopold said, "don't you think we should keep up a little more?"_

_She quickly turned forward from looking out at the surrounding emptiness. She muttered something, of which all Leopold caught was "__… sorry…"_

_He frowned; her voice sounded higher, she wasn't usually so quiet. "What?" He asked, listening closer._

_She was quiet for a second, and then began walking faster so that she pulled ahead of him. Leopold became concerned. Marie had been silently upset at him before, but she was always more aggressive in her silence, usually with glares and punches._

_"Marie-" he started._

_Suddenly, she tripped. Before Leopold could do anything, she dropped the ration bag she'd been holding and fell forward, catching herself in a graceful arabesque. Leopold stopped short. As immediately as she went into it, though, she was on both legs again and gathering up the dropped bag. Leopold continued staring for a second, and then rushed forward to help, but she was already standing up. "M-Marie, what was _that_?" he stammered in confusion._

_She didn't answer and tried to walk on. However, Leopold was tired of the evasion. He grabbed her arm, and immediately noticed that her arm felt smaller. He frowned and asked seriously, "What is going on?"_

_"__… Please forgive me."_

_He furrowed his brow; she sounded like__…_

_She turned and looked at him. It _was_; it was Princess Tutu! Leopold immediately let go of her arm and stepped backwards._

_"I am sorry for the deception Leopold," she said, "but I needed to get outside. I am going to help." She readjusted the ration bag she held. Leopold still couldn't bring himself to say anything. How could he not have noticed? Especially being so close to her!_

_"Hey," a man said, approach from the group, "we need to stick together. Keep up, you two."_

_The Princess tugged her hood further forward again, and nodded without looking at the man, then began walking to catch up._

_The man noticed Leopold still frozen, and came over to him. "Whatever you two are arguing about, I suggest leaving it alone until after we return." Seeing that Leopold wasn't really listening, he then physically reached out and pulled Leopold forward a bit, though not roughly. "Come on; we need to keep moving." Leopold stumbled forward, caught himself, and began walking. The man frowned. "Are you okay?"_

_"__… I… I don't know…" Leopold murmured as he continued moving forward._

Fakir pursed his lips. Princess Sylvia was continuing to be secretive, at least a little bit. But why? She didn't seem to be worried about being discovered by Leopold, for she'd given no requests to stay quiet. Or explanations, either. Apparently Marie had managed to convince her to lay low getting outside, but once there…

She still obviously had confidence in her people to welcome her. Or at least to understand. Kurt had conflicting orders, but the people were going about what they needed to. She was helping, in her mind, so she should simply be in addition to the group. She no doubt knew that her presence would cause a stir, though, being royalty. And if they made a big deal about escorting her, it could attract unwanted attention from the crows… But Sylvia hadn't thought of a few other things, Fakir realized; it was likely that she hadn't considered the latter problem, either. But she had been worried about getting in the way in town. She must have had enough sense to at least try not to bring attention to herself.

And then there was Leopold. Fakir felt somewhat sorry for him; he was just being taken advantage of all over the place. And he would continue to be, for a little while yet. But he just made it so easy, and it wasn't like Fakir had _planned_ on all that had happened. In fact, he had personally been against a good bit of it. And yet here he was. And there was Leopold, knowing now that Princess Tutu was outside, but also knowing why. Although, he had been more concerned with her safety than her cause… But he also seemed to be rather taken with her. And then there was his relationship with Marie…

Fakir got up and looked outside. He had time to write more. He returned to his papers.

_As they caught back up to the group, Leopold thought about the situation: about Princess Tutu and the dangers, about the lowered dangers, about Marie__… And about his duty as a citizen._

_As they neared the Princess, who was herself almost caught up to the group, Leopold finally talked to the man who had reprimanded them, who was still nearby; "Soren."_

_The man came closer; "What?"_

_Leopold set his face. "I__… I have to tell you something. The Princess… is with us."_

_Soren didn't really react. "Leopold, I know; she gave us a wonderful speech, and it feels like she's sending her heart out with us."_

_"No!" Leopold countered, "that's not– I mean, she's _here_!" He pointed out her brown cloak._

_"Leopold," Soren argued, "that's _Marie_. The Princess is probably back at the castle by now. I know-" he cut off as Leopold just pointed again, not changing his expression. Soren sighed. "__… Show me."_

_"__… Listen." Leopold replied, then went over to the Princess. Soren followed behind._

_"__… Princess," Leopold eventually said softly; they weren't quite close enough to the others to be overheard. Still, she didn't answer him. "Princess," he repeated, a bit more confidently, "why do you have to exit the safety of the kingdom?"_

_"I said earlier," she replied, "I intend to support not only the people of our kingdom, but those fighting for it."_

_"And you__… You can't do that from inside?"_

_"Leopold," Princess Sylvia said kindly but sternly, "I appreciate your concern, but I can do this!"_

_"Marie," Soren said, coming up on her other side, "your voice enchantments are getting incredible. But why choose the Princess?"_

_The Princess fell silent, and walked faster to get closer to the group. Soren shrugged at Leopold, who motioned to continue. Soren rolled his eyes, and shook his head. Leopold silently insisted. Soren grimaced, but followed her and continued; "Really, Marie, why mimic Princess Tutu? Not only her voice, but her conversation as well." She didn't respond. Soren sighed, believing Leopold was just getting him involved in another of their fights, and continued with sarcasm, "Aren't you the one who said that our beloved Princess wouldn't dare step outside barrier?"_

_Princess Tutu stopped and turned, looking straight at Soren with defiance and some hurt in her eyes. "No, because I am not Marie. But I _do_ dare to go outside, and try to help as much as you can!"_

_Soren was taken aback by the Princess' look, and stopped walking. "__… M-Marie?" he eventually stammered, "Your illusions are getting unbelievable."_

_The Princess used one hand to take off her hood and looked intently at Soren. "I am _not_ an illusion! I am your Princess, and I have spent too long simply standing by and watching as you all care for our protectors!"_

_By this point, the group had stopped and were gathering towards the Princess. Her white hair shown in sunlight, given her a bright aura. Her determined look only added fire to the bright flames around her face. It struck something in the hearts of all who looked upon her, and they did not doubt it was the Princess standing among them. _

_But the leader stepped forward defensively, hand on his sword._

_"How do we know you are the Princess?"_

_"What?" Leopold exclaimed reflexively, "Aldrick, that is the Princess! She left with us!"_

_"I'm sorry, but I think I would've remembered that," Alrick said, his eyes not leaving the Princess; "Marie came out with us, stubbornly. And now the Raven has done something with her, replacing her with a trick." The people murmured around him._

_"__… Why would he do that?" Princess Sylvia countered after a moment of surprise; "Surely such a trick would gain nothing, and there are no crows around, either."_

_"Then where is Marie?" he asked._

_"She is back behind the wall, still within the barrier. It was me who came out in Marie's place. I apologize for not alerting you earlier, but Kurt would not have let me come."_

_The leader analyzed her a few moments, then warily continued. "All right then; before we exited the gate, what did I ask you?"_

_The Princess had to think momentarily; "You asked__… If I knew the knock sequence to return."_

_"__… And what did you reply?"_

_"I__… I didn't." She responded with some confusion, "Leopold did."_

_Aldrick relaxed his grip on his sword with a sigh and pulled back his hood. "Please forgive me, Princess Sylvia," he said as he quickly bowed, "but we must be ever careful beyond the barrier, especially of unexpected events."_

_The Princess nodded understandingly; "There is nothing to forgive; you were acting as you should."_

_"Then you will have to forgive my future offenses," Aldrick continued, "for I must ask that you please put your hood back up, and prepare to be escorted back." He moved to take her bag in addition to his own, but she recoiled defensively._

_"What? Why?"_

_"Because you are our _Princess_," Aldrick said, "and you must be protected."_

_"And I am!" She replied, "This is one of the least active times for the crows, and every single one of you is prepared to do your part."_

_"With all due respect, Princess, you are safer behind the barrier."_

_"As are all of you!" she insisted, holding onto the ration bag tightly; "We are all safer under my father's protection! But those who need our aid are out here. You help them every day – will you not allow me that same privilege?"_

_The leader moved to argue, but held his tongue. He saw the defiant look in her eyes. He looked around at their location, and at the others. He turned his gaze on Leopold. "You. Did you know about this?"_

_"No!" He exclaimed, as did Princess Sylvia. They glanced at each other, and Soren spoke up._

_"No, he didn't. He actually pointed her out to me."_

_Aldrick pursed his lips, then eventually sighed. __"… We'll be nearing the encampment soon anyway. We need to drop off the supplies, and then we are turning _right_ back around and getting you back to safety, Princess."_

_The Princess__' face melted into a relieved smile. "Thank you, Aldrick."_

_"Please put your hood up, Princess."_

_She obliged, but wouldn't allow him to take her bag. "It would be more noticeable if someone were carrying nothing than if they were just carrying one bag, would it not?"_

_He obviously didn't like the argument, but did not press further. "Bronwin, Annette, Marq," he called, "make sure that the Princess stays safe." Princess Sylvia looked about to object, but Aldrick cut her off. "As long as you keep up with the group, the extra protection shouldn't be noticeable." He turned away before she could argue. "And everyone else! Be on an extra sharp lookout for _any_ sign of crow activity. Now let's get moving." He started heading to the front, and the people grouped up again, although this time ushering the Princess near the front._

_The three called to protect her came over and lowered their hoods. "I am Marq," a tall man with black hair said as he bowed, "and these are Annette and Bronwin." A woman with short black hair and a man with longer brown hair showed their respect._

_"You need not worry, Princess," Annette said confidently._

_The Princess smiled at them. "I see no reason to. Thank you." They nodded and put their hoods up again, and took places on either side of her and behind._

_As the group moved forward, Leopold made his way closer to the Princess. "Excuse me__… Sorry… Let me just… Sorry…"_

_Nearing the Princess from behind, though, Annette stopped him._

_"I'm sorry, but we can't just let everyone-"_

_"Please," he interjected, "I need to talk to her about Marie."_

_Before Annette could respond, Princess Sylvia looked back; "What is it, Leopold?"_

_Annette grudgingly motioned for Leopold to move up beside the Princess._

_"Princess, you said that Marie is back behind the barrier," he started, "When__… we left, I saw Sir Kurt talking with who I thought was you. Please, tell me… Was that Marie?"_

_"Yes, it was," She replied._

_"But__… How?"_

_"She said that if I gave her my cloak, she could do the rest with magic. She would distract Kurt while we brought out the supplies."_

_"So__… She is with Sir Kurt?"_

_"I imagine so, yes."_

_Anxiety started becoming evident in his voice. "And__… And what happens when he finds out?"_

_She paused a moment. "You mean if? She's very good with magic, you know."_

_"N-no__… When;" Leopold repeated; "We will be out for a while, and Sir Kurt is not so easily fooled, at least for long. Marie can only do so much with magic."_

_The Princess gave a sympathetic smile. "I have every confidence in Marie, and Kurt would not harm her."_

_"But what happens to her?" He insisted, "__… If she were discovered?"_

_"I__… must admit, I did not have a lot of time to think about that," Princess Sylvia said, "Marie simply set out a plan and put it into action, once I agreed. She was rather adamant about it, actually."_

_"You mean this was _her_ plan?" Leopold sighed shakily; "I should have guessed__…"_

_Princess Sylvia frowned; "Do not worry; it has worked thus far. And when we return, I can tell Kurt that it was my idea, that Marie had no choice in the matter."_

_Leopold nervously readjusted his ration packs. "But what about until then__…?" He muttered._

Fakir pursed his lips. Yes, what about until then? Marie and Kurt had to be doing _something_, after all. They would have to wait at the tower until the expedition came into sight before she could try her magic. Fakir adjusted the light of his lamp inside. If he wanted to maintain his balance in class tomorrow, he should probably get sleep… He glanced at the papers, rereading the last few paragraphs. As he tried thinking of what Marie would do, and was coming up with nothing, he decided it could wait until after classes tomorrow. Maybe he could even take it to the pond – nothing in that bit should be too problematic if Duck happened to sneak a look. And if she complained, he could honestly say it was because she wasn't starting at the beginning. He smirked a little, then put his pen away and put out the lamp.


	12. Communication

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Communication

Fakir sat down on the bank of the pond, and set some blank pages with his ink to the side. He would write in a little bit. Right now, he was just enjoying the fairly clear skies and sun. Ballet practice had gone well, he been able to do some research, and he hadn't run into Autor that day. He still wasn't entirely sure what to do with Marie and Kurt, but he felt confident things would work out once he got after it again. He closed his eyes and let the warmth flow over his skin.

Eventually, he opened them again, and saw Duck sitting in the water nearby, staring at him. Fakir raised an eyebrow, silently asking what she was looking at. Almost immediately, she started quacking, flapping, and generally freaking out.

Fakir smirked and scoffed; "Idiot." He doubted he would've understood her even if she were speaking normally. He closed his eyes again and laid down on his back.

After a little bit, the quackfest stopped, and he heard her waddle up on the bank. She made his way towards him, paused, then changed direction a little. When she stopped, he opened one eye. She was investigating his empty papers.

"Yes, I am writing," he started, startling a quack out of her, "and no, I didn't bring what I've written with me."

She turned to face him, some irritation on her face. "Quack!"

"Because it would've been too many papers," Fakir responded lightly.

Duck blinked in a little bit of surprise. "Quack?"

"Yes, that many." Fakir said as he opened both eyes and turned on his side to face her.

"Quack!" she said happily.

Fakir smiled a little. "Yeah, I'm impressed too."

"Qua-quack?" she asked, interested.

"Let's see…" Fakir mused, "I've been writing on it for… Almost three weeks? A little less, more likely."

"Quack! Quack quaaack quack!" she responded, making some negative wing motions. Fakir grasped that that hadn't been her question, and he could guess what was.

"I'll tell you what it's about later."

"Quack quack! Quack quack quack?" she said accusingly.

"What?" Fakir responded, "I've told you I'm not telling you until later before."

"Quack? Quack!" she emphasized, making an 'x' towards him; "Quaaack!" She pointed towards the school.

Fakir glanced that direction, saw nothing, and looked back at her questioningly.

"Qu-ack," she tried enunciating, making a slightly strange face as she did so. Fakir tried to resist smirking, and didn't entirely succeed, but still had no idea what she was saying. Duck held out her wings in front of her like a book, and pretended to read it seriously.

"… Yes, I've been doing research…" he said uncertainly.

"Quack!" she reprimanded, making an 'x' again.

"Okay… Try again." Fakir said.

Duck turned and began waving her wings up and down, sometimes moving them sideways. Fakir watched for a little while.

"You… learned to lead music?"

"Quack!" she exclaimed, again making the 'x'.

Fakir raised his eyebrows. "And I thought I was actually getting better at this…"

"Quack," She said, motioning for him to wait; "Quack."

Fakir waited expectantly.

Duck began walking seriously, then switched directions and made an attempt at making a creepy face, holding her wings up like claws. The unexpected sight almost made Fakir laugh, but he squeezed his mouth shut and turned it into a snerk. But she wasn't done yet. She then switched directions again and made an exaggerated happy face. She switched back and gave the creepy face again. Switching, the happy face was now accompanied by extended wings. Switching again, she gave the creepy face and made some low quacks like a laugh. "Qua-qua-qua-quaaack."

That did it. Fakir couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer and burst out laughing. He reflexively shot a out hand to cover his mouth, but it was too late. He held his hand in front of his mouth, but the laughter kept coming.

Duck stopped her acting, and was about to yell at him, when she saw the smile he was trying to cover as he laughed. And recognized that he was _laughing_. That threw her off guard, and her reprimand was consequently rather feeble. "Qu-quaa..."

Fakir did manage to eventually turn the laugh into a cough, and then cleared his throat, trying to pretend that he _hadn't_ just been laughing out loud. "Um… I'm not quite sure I caught that. Could you… could you do it again?" He almost started laughing again, but turned it into a cough and quieted it.

Duck did get a bit irritated at that, but she deliberately repeated some of the mimes: she pretended to read a book, and she made the exaggerated happy face. Then, she frowned, put her wings on her hips, and pointed at the papers.

Fakir snickered once, but sobered up again, and finally made some connections. "… Autor?"

"Quack!" she exclaimed triumphantly, raising her wings joyfully.

Fakir had to hold back another laugh as he recognized what she had been trying to mime before. "What about him?"

Duck just pointed at the papers again, then looked at him.

"… No, Autor is _not_ involved with this story." Fakir responded at length, "despite how much he wants to be."

Duck seemed satisfied with that, and nodded approvingly. She looked at him a few moments longer, then waddled around to his other side. He turned his head to follow her. She settled down on the ground nearby, but not someplace where she could see his papers. She was giving him space to write. Fakir smiled, and laid on his back again. He appreciated it, but he had to have an idea of where to go with things before writing again. Or, he felt like he should. He could think on that for now.

He thought about Marie, and Kurt, and how they might handle the situation. Or tried to think about it, anyway. He didn't have a lot of luck thinking of specifics. He had general ideas, which became a bit firmer upon reflection, but that was about it. He tried thinking of conversations, and he grasped at snippets of possible scenarios, but he didn't have a way to get from his current point _to_ those snippets. So then he thought about Marie, and her possible view on things thus far. Why had she insisted that Sylvia go out? She had simply pointed out the flaws in Sylvia's plans; she didn't have to fix them. But she had. And she was obviously a bit possessive of Leopold - why send Sylvia out with him alone…? Well, not _alone_, but without her around…

Right. She had latched onto the idea that Sylvia wanted to go out and help Siegfried. Maybe she was trying to get Leopold to see that Sylvia would never be within his reach…? But he didn't exactly seem to think of Sylvia in that way as much now that they were outside. But Marie also seemed a little bit paranoid… Possibly? She didn't like doubts, at least, that was for sure.

And how long could she keep up the magic act? Once Kurt discovered her, what would she do? Would she use magic on him? Would she freak out? Would she pretend that Sylvia had made her do it? Would she continue to try to lie, or would she break down and tell him everything?

… No sobbing, that was for sure. Fakir couldn't even attempt to see Marie crying in fear of Kurt; it just wasn't possible. If she ever was scared of him, she would probably try to defend herself either with words or magic. But other than that… nothing was really clear.

Fakir sighed; maybe if he just started writing, he could think clearer. Or at least pretend to think clearer - sometimes it felt like he wasn't really thinking as much as he was just writing down what was already happening. Sure, he could influence it, but only so much…

That seemed to be the way story-writing went, though. The people he was writing with may or may not have been real at one time, but they still behaved as if they were, and always had been. And he would try to write as if they were. He remembered what it had been like when he was writing about Duck that first time; the words hadn't even felt like his own. Now, he had more control over that. The words he wrote still seemed to come from other people at times, and they sort-of did, but he could more willingly direct them. He may not be able to change the ending, but he could try to direct it there more peacefully.

Fakir reached over for his pen and ink. Time to see what happened next.


	13. Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Nine

_Marie kept the Princess__' blue hood pulled well up, and talked as little as possible. Which made the wait on top of the tower rather awkward._

"_Why don't you wait for me down below?" she had asked when they'd first arrived; "It will take me a while to set up the spell, and like you said, I am just watching for them."_

"_Would you rather have the company of the guard whose place I took?" he asked._

"_No, but…" Marie responded, "I... thought you would rather wait in the shade."_

"_I need not wait below when I can just as easily wait here, my Princess." Kurt had said, leaning against the stone; "Besides I can keep an eye on the skies easier from here." _

_So Marie had prepared her spell, which hadn__'t taken as long as she thought, and waited, making sure not to look directly at Kurt. Her disguise spell was well done, but she couldn't concentrate on it while she prepared the protection spell, and after that was done, she needed to conserve her magic for the casting of the spell. She really did intend to use it through the barrier, after all. After a while, she sat down on the stones; because of the cloak, sitting meant less of her disguise needed magic. Kurt looked about to protest, but stopped and went back to looking out through the barrier, which was practically invisible except for when the sunlight hit it just right; then it would briefly shimmer in a pink-hued rainbow. Kurt still seemed a bit put off from their conversation earlier._

_More time passed. Eventually, Kurt spoke up. __"Do you not wish to see them arrive yourself, my Princess?"_

_Marie had to use her voice spell again; she__'d let it fall while preparing. "… _You_ will.__"_

_This answer seemed to surprise him; __"But you are the one casting the spell."_

"… _I am tired." She responded. And she would be, if he kept up this questioning._

"_Then perhaps you should not attempt to send a spell through the barrier, my Princess," Kurt pointed out._

"_I _will_ be fine,__" she insisted, raising her voice a little; "Let me rest." That seemingly ended the conversation. Then she added, "Please."_

_The words did not sit well with Kurt. Whether it was because he didn__'t like what she was doing on principle, or because she may have been acting suspicious, Marie couldn't tell. But she let her voice spell fall again anyway to conserve her magic; she simply would not answer any more questions he had._

_Eventually, Kurt stood up straighter, looking out. After a few moments of study, he said, __"There. The group is becoming visible."_

_Marie breathed deeply and stood up; she was not as tall as Kurt, so it took a few more moments before she saw anything, but she did also see the brown cloaks walking outside. She nodded, and stepped forward. She whispered a few words, which would give her spell strength, and was thankful that magic did not rely on loudness of the incantation. Then she began in earnest, waving her hands and concentrating on the spell. A small silver orb formed in front of her._

_Kurt watched, staying out of her way. He was slightly concerned to notice that she looked a little different, but perhaps it was the light from the spell and the separate protection spell on her cloak reacting to one another. Her cloak didn__'t have anything powerful on it, but enough to ward off unfriendly things._

_Marie felt a little bit of resistive pressure from the orb. She assumed it was because of the spell itself, and pushed the orb towards the barrier. As it bumped against it, the barrier shimmered more visibly, but didn__'t allow it through. Kurt put his hand on his sword warily. Marie pushed a little harder, and the orb began squeezing into a single point, so it looked more like a pinched bubble. The barrier shimmered in protest. Marie kept pushing, gritting her teeth with the effort. She felt a tiny bit of the orb start to squeeze its way through, squirming at least part of the way into the barrier. Marie felt a rush of excitement; if she could just get it all the way through, the rest of the orb would follow instantly! And the barrier would close itself again afterward! She pushed harder; its direction was already set, and once it got through, it would land-_

_Suddenly, she heard aggressive cawing. Before she could react, Kurt drew his sword, and a cascade of small black bodies began bombarding the barrier immediately in front of them. The barrier shimmered in reaction, even more so than before. The silver orb flashed brightly, also reacting, forcing both Marie and Kurt to look away. Marie felt as it was absorbed into the barrier itself, almost losing her balance along with the disappearing resistance. The flash dissipated, and the barrier under attack now had a silver color fortifying it. The crows continued attacking, although they no longer even made a dent in the magic, but that didn__'t settle Kurt in the least._

"_My Princess!" Kurt exclaimed as he rushed in front of Marie, "Get below, now!" He grabbed her shoulder and propelled her in the right direction. Marie was still a bit shocked from the sudden attack, but she quickly followed his instructions and entered the tower. She hurried down the steps, away from the cawing. She was sure Kurt wouldn't be far behind, but he hadn't followed her yet. Then, Marie realized that this was her chance to get away; she could run down the stairs and escape, especially if she removed the cloak. Kurt would be searching all over town for the Princess, all while the Princess was really outside, and he would probably be searching until she returned. And Marie wouldn't have to deal with disguises anymore! She didn't have the magic for any of that right now. As she continued rushing down the stairs, Marie started taking off the cloak._

"No, that will just make it _worse_!" Fakir urgently muttered. Kurt was a _knight_, he wouldn't let her go so easily!

_Marie gasped and paused, whipping her head around; who had said that!? But she was alone__…_

"_You!" Kurt called as he entered the tower and also began hurrying down the stairs, "Stop!"_

_Marie started down the stairs again._

Fakir paused, confused; not just because of the concerning voice-over effect he'd just had again, but because of the situation. It looked like Marie was going to get away. There was no way with her head start that Kurt could catch up to her, especially since she was scared. But… all of the scenarios he'd imagined before involved her being caught!

But…_ This_ scenario kept playing in his head, words describing it waiting for his pen. So he just kept writing.

_She ignored the calls, only becoming more excited by them. She had gotten the hood off, but was fumbling with the clasp. Abandoning the effort, she now focused on getting to the bottom of the stairs, not caring whether he saw her or not._

"_Stop!" he called again, in a more commanding voice. She almost obeyed, it held such authority, but her momentum kept her going._

_Finally, she neared the exit. She could hear Kurt starting to catch up to her, and she put on an extra burst of speed. Right before she reached the door, though, arms reached out from the side and grabbed her._

_The guard who was posted earlier had been waiting below for their return. When he__'d heard Kurt yelling, he knew he could help catch whoever it was by waiting._

_Marie still had the Princess__' cloak on, though, and as his arms enveloped her, the cloak pushed outward, the cloth's protection spell activating. She felt the magic work, and it freed just enough space for her to slip out of his grip. While the guard hadn't been expecting that, he still retained enough of his wits to grab after her, and managed to snatch a piece of the cloak, although it again pushed him off. But not before the grab transferred to Marie, and made her exit more difficult. Before he could get at her again, though, she was out the door._

_The guard immediately ran out after her, but he stepped on the cloak as she finally undid the clasp and dropped the cloak, and the rebound his foot experienced caused him to fall over sideways. He scrambled to get back upright, and swatted the cloak out of the way. Kurt came out not long after. He immediately spotted Marie as she ran down the streets, and he took off after her. He figured it was pointless to call after her at this point, but he yelled at the other guard, who was now running as well. __"Get back up there!"_

"_Sir?" the guard said confusedly, slowing down._

"_Return to your post!"_

_Marie turned down an alleyway between houses. Kurt cursed, then yelled back one more word; __"Crows!"_

_That was all the guard needed to hear. He immediately turned around and hurried back to the tower. He picked up the Princess__' cloak, being careful to grab its underside, and sprinted up the stairs as quickly as possible. By the time he got to the top, he was a bit winded, but he had his sword drawn and ready. However, all he saw was that the barrier was more visible than usual. Concerned, he looked over the edge. On the other side of the barrier, at ground level, was a large black mass, at least the height of a full-grown man, and twice the width. It seemed to be more or less stationary, but it was pulsating and pushing against the barrier. The guard dutifully set his sword and the cloak down, and reached for his flags. The castle needed to know of this._

Fakir held his pen at the ready for a few seconds, ready to write, but thinking of nothing else, dropped it to the side. He let out a sigh; this… Things were certainly not progressing as he thought they would. Sure, he had imagined a confrontation, but not a chase! What did Marie have to fear? Sure, she had basically convinced the Princess to commit treason, but… Well, maybe that seemed a fairly valid fear. But running away didn't help! Especially since she'd had the opportunity to just keep it between herself and Kurt while in the tower, at the most maybe adding that one guard. Although, Kurt was likely to run after the Princess once he found out what had happened…

Fakir put a hand to his head. Princess Sylvia _did_ need some more time to get the rations delivered. Maybe this would provide her the needed time… But it was not an event he had anticipated. Nor was he entirely certain he liked it. Marie would have to answer for a lot more now, especially if word spread during the chase…

"Quack?"

Fakir looked up questioningly, having forgotten where he was. Duck looked at him, slightly worried. He gave her a reassuring smirk. "I'm just… trying to compensate for character choices."

Duck looked a bit confused.

"It's nothing. Things will work out." Eventually, he mentally added. Hopefully.


	14. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Ten

Fakir closed another book as he finished reading what he wanted. He had skimmed over a few things relating to wars, but he already knew much of what he needed. He wasn't trying to be absurdly accurate, after all; but double-checking some details couldn't ever hurt. It wasn't as if he hadn't done research like this in the past, either, especially when he had gotten serious about his knight training. But things were different in fairy tales. Usually. Either way, he wanted to get on with writing. Back to his pen and papers.

_The expedition__'s leader had slowed their pace a bit, making sure to keep a watch out for crows. Suddenly, a person near the back exclaimed, "Crows above to the left!"_

_Immediately, everybody flew into action. The guard around the Princess tightened to encircle only her, the people clumped closer together, swords were drawn, and everybody looked to the left. Leopold instinctively clutched his little charm sack, and then realized that the Princess didn__'t have one. Panicking, he looked towards her, and was somewhat relieved to see the protective mob around her. Quickly, he looked into the air with everyone else._

_There was a large black mass high above them and flying incredibly fast. There was hardly time to distinguish any individual birds when the flock flew straight past; they had no interest in the expedition. The creatures were flying directly at the wall of the kingdom. Everybody held tense as the creatures approached the wall with supernatural speed, hoping that the wall would hold. When the crows attacked, there was a bright flash of light, and the wall held steady. The crows seemed to have dispersed. But everyone there knew better than to assume._

"_That's it;" Aldrick ordered, "we are taking the Princess back to-"_

"_No!" Princess Sylvia immediately protested, "You can't! We have already come so far!"_

"_Princess, did you not _see_ what just happened?__" he demanded. "We can't risk keeping you out here!" Before she could respond, he continued; "If it would ease your conscience, I'll send you back with only half of the group, but you need to be protected, Princess!"_

"_Then surely you must know better than to send me back!" she shot back._

_He paused and looked at her, waiting for an explanation._

_She made eye contact with him before continuing; __"Aldrick, I saw those crows attack our kingdom, just as clearly as you did. But I also know that they cannot have been destroyed so quickly by only the barrier. I have never seen the wall make such a bright flash before; I assume it was a large burst of magic. Whether from the wall or the crows, I cannot tell. But if I return now, do you not think that there will be crows searching for just such an entrance as I will need to return? The wall could be having problems right now, and we would be adding pressure to open up an entry through it. Do you believe that they won't be searching for an opportunity to attack, for at least the next hour or more?" She saw him grimace, and continued before he could counter; "And while I have every faith in the people here, would we not stand a better chance as a full group, and not split apart? We must be close to the encampment by now; surely we can give them the rations and wait for the crows to disperse again, and then return as one."_

_It was clear that Aldrick did not like the Princess__' plan. But he did not seem to be coming up with a better one. Eventually, gritting his teeth, he responded; "Princess… it may be best if we do as you say. But, we will not wait around for the crows to disperse - we will return together as quickly as possible, and use all of our skills to return you safely." He looked around at the group for affirmation, and everyone nodded their heads willingly._

"_Please let us protect you, Princess Tutu." Bronwin said from his position to her side._

"_We can hold our own against those vile crows," Annete added._

"_Yes, Princess! We won't let them in!" another person in the group said. Everyone else echoed the statements._

_Princess Sylvia had wanted to protest, but with everyone asking her to let them help her__… She wasn't sure if she wanted to smile in gratitude or cry in sadness, for it still seemed that she was unable to help them herself. Her lip quivered for a fraction of a second, but she knew that crying would only hurt the people. So she forced herself to smile and nodded._

Fakir pursed his lips irately. Idiot. At least she wasn't letting such feelings control her as much. For now.

_Suddenly, the sound of frantic hoof-beats was heard coming towards them. Everyone, still a bit on edge from watching the crows, returned to their defense positions. However, someone near the front recognized the horses__' gear. "It's Prince Siegfried and his men!"_

"_What?" Aldrick questioned; before he could question any further the horses came into his view, and he recognized them as well. He motioned for everyone to get off of the trail, and his instructions were speedily followed. As they neared, one horse near the front hastened ahead of the group and came to a halt in front of the expedition's leader._

"_Quickly state your name and where you are from!" The man on the dark brown horse demanded._

"_I am Aldrick Lubin of Ironrod, under King Marius' rule," Aldrick responded, "We are bringing rations to Prince Siegfried's troops."_

_The man on the horse relaxed a little. __"We had assumed that you would not be risking the exit, due to the recent crow attack," he glanced towards the wall briefly; "And it does not seem to be over." He gave a signal to the troops yet coming, and they continued rushing on._

_The horses finally reached them and began thundering past. The Princess was mostly walled behind her bodyguards, but she still managed to catch sight of the Prince__'s horse and gear. The rider wore a helmet, but it was obviously Prince Siegfried upon the steed. She wondered if the sudden pounding in her ears was really the horses passing, or her own heart pounding._

_The man on horseback beside Aldrick raised his voice to be heard above them; __"The Prince and most of the knights are going after that abominable mass we just saw. There are still some of the troop at the camp, though - take the supplies to them and we will disperse it later. I would advice against returning until an hour has passed, or we return."_

"_Do you require assistance?" Aldrick asked quickly._

_The man shook his head. __"No, it would be best for you to get those supplies and yourselves to safety. You're not far from the camp - leave the crows to us." The man then kicked his horse, and rushed back into the flow of passing soldiers._

_Soon, the horses passed, and the hoof-beats faded as they galloped towards the wall. As the expedition members came back onto the trail, Aldrick addressed them; __"That was Prince Siegfried and a portion of his men, as I'm sure you all noticed. There are still some knights at their camp, which is nearby; we are going to drop off the supplies with them. Then we will return. The Prince and his knights will take care of the crow problem; we will focus on keeping the Princess safe." With those words, he turned around and headed forward again. Everyone followed._

_Princess Sylvia__'s heart sank as she walked forward; the Prince wouldn't be there when they delivered the supplies. Not only that, but he would be absent because he was protecting her father's kingdom! Shouldn't she be doing the same? She felt her resolve wavering. Was it really worth it, then, to come all the way out here…?_

_Yes, she assured herself, yes it was, because her plan wasn__'t to come and see Prince Siegfried. That had just been a perk, an aside. Her real purpose was to support the knights, the protectors who deserved and needed help. She held her head back up and walked with a more determined step._

"_Princess?" Annette said._

_The Princess looked back at her bodyguard inquiringly. She saw Leopold standing beside Annette again. __"Yes, Leopold?"_

_Leopold seemed nervous, and tried getting closer. Annette resisted him, and he relented. Before the Princess could allow him forward, he spoke; __"Princess Tutu, please take my charm!" he said urgently as he held out the bag that Marie had filled earlier._

_Both Princess Sylvia and Annette were surprised, but Annette spoke first; __"You mean she doesn't have one?"_

"_There wasn't time before we left." Leopold said as he looked pleadingly at the Princess, "But now that we're out here, and the crows-"_

"_Take mine, Princess." Annette said, extending her charm bag to the Princess, reaching closer than Leopold could. "I can take care of myself without it."_

_Princess Sylvia frowned. __"I appreciate your concern, both of you, but I really should be quite safe with all of you looking out for me, and the crows are focused on the wall-"_

"_Princess, I must insist." Annette continued; "We are to keep you as safe as possible, and your lacking a protection charm would be irresponsible."_

"_But I'm sure that you all need it-"_

"_If you don't take one of theirs," Bronwin chimed in from the side, "You'll have to take one of ours, Princess." Marq nodded on her other side._

_Princess Sylvia looked at each of them, and sighed, defeated; __"Well, if you all must insist…" She hesitantly took Annette's extended charm bag, and readjusted the ration bag she was holding so she could hold both better._

_Leopold lowered his extended arm, half in disappointment, half in relief. Annette motioned for him to back up again, and Leopold complied without argument, subconsciously tying the bag to himself again. He felt stupid for not thinking of it earlier, and that it was somewhat his responsibility. But__… it wasn't like he had known the Princess was coming this far. He sighed, trying to put off his guilt. They would be getting to the camp soon - then they could turn around and return the Princess to safety. And find out how Marie was doing. After getting past the crows. And hoping that Siegfried's men wouldn't need help. Leopold gripped his charm bag a little tighter, half wishing he had taken Marie's offer of an extra protection charm._


	15. Chapter Eleven

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Fakir sat at his desk and looked at the paper in front of him. He reread the last few lines, then paragraphs, multiple times. He knew where to go next, generally speaking. But the exact sequence of how it would work was evading him. He had been waiting to get back to writing, and believed that by the time he got to it he'd have a better idea. Yet here he was, pen ready, sans any better ideas. He sighed, and glanced to the side. There were stacks of books and papers on the floor of his room; some pages were spread out for reference, as well as a few bookmarks. He briefly wondered what Duck would say if she saw his room like this.

There would probably be some surprise - Fakir had never really been a cluttery person. Of course, he hadn't had much to get cluttered. Thinking of his other room reminded Fakir of Charon, how he had seemed a bit disappointed when Fakir returned to living at the school. Fakir hadn't even considered it at first, since the dorms were a much further distance from the pond than the smithy was. But Duck had pressed him to look into it. Not easily, of course, but after some heated arguments she convinced him to do it. She knew that animals weren't allowed to stay in the dorms, but she'd still wanted him to go. Charon understood and watched her at night. Fakir walked her back after classes were over. It wasn't the ideal situation, but Duck insisted on it for his sake. Idiot.

Those decisions were already done with, though, and as much as he didn't like to admit it, it was helping to be on campus, closer to the library. But that wasn't what he was supposed to be focusing on. He had an expedition to complete, in more ways than one. He looked back to the paper. He still was unsure of the details, but he dipped his pen in ink and set to work anyway.

_The expedition finally sighted the remains of a campsite. Alarmed, Aldrick increased his pace briefly. But it soon became evident that things were not in disarray due to problems; the remaining knights were putting things away and preparing to travel again, either for more battle or simply to go to other areas that needed their help. They moved in a deliberate fashion, seemingly unhurried, yet not lingering on anything either._

_As they got closer, the knights noticed, and one man came over with a hand on his sword, slightly tense. __"State your name and where you are from," he ordered, although not as anxiously as the previous knight._

_Aldrick complied; __"I am Aldrick of Ironrod, under King Marius' rule." He kept a hand on his sword as well. "What of you?"_

"_I am Neilan of Amberton, numbered among Prince Siegfried's knights," Neilan gestured to the other knights._

_Aldrick released his sword and gestured to the bag he was carrying; __"We bring rations and supplies."_

_The man relaxed. __"We did not think… Well, your help is deeply appreciated. I assume you ran into the Prince not long ago?" he motioned for more knights to come over and start transferring the supplies. They followed instructions._

_Aldrick nodded; __"We were told to continue here and hand off what we have." He similarly waved to his group, and they began to mingle with the remaining knights._

"_Again, thank you for your support. I know that Prince Siegfried would thank you himself if he were here," the knight said gratefully as he offered his hand for Aldrick's bag._

_As the group dispersed to hand off their packs, the Princess observed the people who were protecting her home. The knights were all well put together; not as battle-ready as those on horseback had been earlier, but they easily could be. She noticed the relief in their faces as they received what the people had to offer, smiles that were weary and tired, but genuine. She smiled a little herself, proud of what the people could do._

"_Princess?" a voice asked softly, trying to keep quiet._

_She turned, and Annette had her arm extended for her pack. __"I can take that from here."_

_Princess Sylvia held the bag closer to herself. __"Why should I be unable to give as well?"_

_Annette seemed about to argue, but paused in thought. After a moment, she nodded. __"If you wish, Princess." Annette then motioned as she took her own bag further in the crowd. The Princess followed._

_As Annette handed her bag to a knight, the other sighed appreciatively; __"We really need these. Your people are brave to send you out, and we thank you for your risks."_

"_Our Princess and King send their gratitude and well wishes as well," Annette said earnestly, returning the gaze. Sylvia felt a pang of guilt as she realized that that was all that was expected of her, officially._

_The man smiled; __"Of course. We understand, and are grateful for the extra forces that have already been sent to us."_

"_We could do better with more troops," a woman commented as she approached._

"_Kate," the man began sternly._

"_I'm not intending to complain," she quickly defended, "and I don't expect them to throw what few people they have left into the fray. I just think they deserve to know the truth."_

"_Which includes our gratitude."_

"_Of course," she responded evenly; "But our gratitude will not defeat the Raven." She said the last bit not exactly with resentment, but with tiredness; her body language conveyed similar feelings._

"_Which is why we bring rations with our encouragement." Annette asserted, bringing herself into the conversation. She gestured at the hooded Princess, who still had a ration bag._

_Kate smiled a little; __"Yes. There is that."_

_She moved to take the Princess__' bag, and Sylvia gingerly handed it over. "Thank you… for your bravery, and all your hard work," she added, trying to sound pleasant despite her guilty feelings._

_The woman sighed as she hefted the bag around; __"And thank you for your perseverance. I hope it is enough."_

_Princess Sylvia felt a stab in her heart, as if a thorn had suddenly decided to thrust through its depths and lodge itself in her throat. It wasn__'t excruciating, but it made breathing difficult, and the pain took her off guard. The woman had already turned to leave and didn't notice the brief stagger._

_Sylvia understood that it wasn__'t the place of royalty to actually go out and take part in 'mundane' affairs, even when they became more important to functioning. She had been taught since she was small that while she could encourage and engage with the people, her place was among those at the castle. But she had always been able to avoid believing that, especially in her daily dealings with the town as of late. And then here, here was a common exchange between kingdoms, offering support, and yet of her they simply said that she 'sent her well wishes'. And they all accepted such a thing! As if it were common, as if it were enough! As if well wishes alone would help them win the war against the Raven! She didn't expect a speech about her, but was she not even expected to take some kind of action? Everyone else certainly was! More could yet be done, and the people were doing most everything for it! Even her father, a royal himself, while he did not aid the people directly, aided in the war efforts by resisting the Raven, by protecting the people to fight another day. Yet all she could do was smile and dance, pretend that the war wasn't happening, pretend that her inaction really helped?_

_No longer. She had determined to change that when she decided to leave the safety of the kingdom__'s walls. She was changing that now, taking the supplies out _with_ her people. The knights should know how much she truly did care, how much she was willing to do._

"_It is not enough," she said to the knights before her, who were already walking away. They turned questioningly, as did Annette._

_The woman who had taken her bag frowned a little; __"… I may have been a bit pessimistic before, but by no means did I try to say that things were hopeless."_

_The Princess shook her head. __"No, what I mean is that we can- that _I_ can do more, for all of you, I hope.__" She lowered her hood and looked steadily at the knights. "I am Princess Sylvia Colombe, daughter of King Marius Colombe. Who is your leader while the Prince is away? I wish to speak with them."_

_Annette clearly hadn__'t been expecting such a move; neither had the knights behind her. The knights' eyes widened as they realized who she was, and quickly gave small bows to her while balancing the ration packs. "I-I'll go get him right away, Your Highness!" Kate said as she scrambled to leave as quickly as possible. Princess Sylvia wanted to tell her not to worry so much, but the woman was gone before she could articulate the thought._

"… _If she said anything that was out of line, Your Highness," the remaining knight began, but Princess Sylvia cut him off._

"_Of course not. What you say to one another, you can share with me." Her expression softened; "I am here to learn of your needs, and what I can do to help."_

_Annette glanced at her with a questioning look, but then quickly looked elsewhere, not wanting to seem impertinent._

_The knight nodded and gave another bow. __"… Thank you, Your Highness."_

_The word did not take long to spread, and by the time the leader was fetched, the rest of the camp was aware of Princess Sylvia__'s presence. Aldrick approached with him. It was clear that neither one of them was pleased with the situation. Bronwin and Marq had taken up positions around the Princess as before, simply keeping their presence visible._

"_Please, do not find any fault with Aldrick," Princess Sylvia immediately requested, "He was unaware of my plans. I left Ironrod in disguise."_

"_Forgive me, Your Highness," the knight leader said abruptly, "but I still would have expected you to have been recognized. Clothes do not make a commoner." Aldrick pursed his lips in response, despite the fact that the man was looking at the Princess; "… Although, given your lack of available professionals, it is not something I suppose was very evident."_

_Princess Sylvia frowned. __"It was not due to any neglect of Aldrick's-"_

"_No, of course not;" the knight interrupted her, bowing; "I apologize for any implications of such." She was unsure why he was apologizing to her and not to Aldrick, but he quickly returned to his upright position and continued, "My name is Corvin, and Prince Siegfried left me in charge. Kate tells me you had something to say?"_

_The Princess nodded. __"I was hoping to discuss what more we could do to help you and the other troops, Sir Corvin; what I might do to assist the war efforts." Aldrick looked surprised, and glanced at Annette. She gave him a small shrug._

"… _May I be honest with you, Your Highness?" Corvin asked impassively._

"_Of course!" Princess Sylvia responded._

"_Then you could start helping by being less foolish," he replied; "Leaving the safety of what is left of your kingdom to take on a task that could easily be fulfilled by any of your people already in the expedition not only puts your kingdom in jeopardy, but shows a lack of faith in your people's abilities."_

"_W-what? No!" the Princess immediately reacted, "I would never think that! If anything, I trust them all enough that I put my life into their hands!"_

_A silence followed._

"… _I apologize for my brusqueness, Your Highness," Corvin eventually said, "but you did request honesty. And… these are not easy times for any of us." He sighed. "In truth, I cannot think of anything we are in dire need of currently, except an upper hand. You just brought us more rations and the supplies we need most, and you cannot spare any more people, I am sure." He glanced at Aldrick; "I would not ask you to send what remaining strength you have."_

_Princess Sylvia softened; __"Would you take more people?"_

"_We would not turn them away," Corvin allowed, "but I request that you not put any more strain on your people than you already have." Immediately, Sir Corvin realized his poor word choice. "That is not what I meant, Your Highness! I apologize… I simply wanted to point out that you and your people have already done so much for us. You must also look to your own safety in this war."_

_Princess Sylvia looked down in thought, then back at Sir Corvin; __"Are you sure that there is nothing I can offer? I understand that the people are doing much already, but what about myself? Is there anything you would have me ask of my father? Or perhaps I could…" she trailed off, unsure what else to offer._

_Corvin smiled wearily. __"You are generous, Your Highness. The only thing I would ask of you is that you protect yourself so that your people may look forward to such a ruler. I surely hope that this war will be over with, and leave plenty of time for your rule."_

_Corvin__'s words were kind, but they offered only frustration to the Princess. Why would no one let her help? Was she truly that incapable of offering anything useful?_

Fakir had to pause in his writing to restrain his personal comments. She was infuriating at times, but incapable was not a description he would have chosen for the Princess. She couldn't do everything, of course, but no one could. He wished she would stop focusing so much on the negative aspects of herself. What did he do to distract her from it before…? Perhaps he would think of it as he wrote.

_Aldrick finally spoke up; __"Yes, we plan on returning her to safety as soon as possible. We were requested by the Prince's group to wait for an hour first, to ensure that they have time to deal with the crows."_

_Sir Corvin nodded in understanding. __"Then I would suggest either finding a knight to assist packing, or keeping an eye out for more crows. Especially considering our present company."_

_Aldrick also nodded, and turned to relay the message to the rest of the group. Princess Sylvia, determined to do something, followed, putting her hood back up before one of the others had to remind her._


	16. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Fakir hadn't quite written what he wanted to in that last part, but he had made progress, at least. Before he could continue with that train of thought, though, he could feel Marie waiting for him to return to her chase scene. Or whatever it had become now. She would probably go into hiding in the town, or perhaps Kurt had already caught her. No, it was more likely she was hiding - the town was only so large, but she knew her way around. Fakir didn't bother looking outside; now was not the time to stop writing.

_Marie sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall, trying to calm her breathing. Most of the citizens were still out working, luckily, so it wasn__'t hard to find a vacant house. It was certainly better than hiding in alleyways had gone - no matter how many turns she took, no matter how she backtracked and tried to lose him, Sir Kurt refused to be shaken. Sure, she expected the Princess' personal bodyguard to be dedicated, but she had also expected him to be a bit slower. She really hadn't thought this far ahead. She almost laughed at herself. She was usually the one to nag at Leopold about thinking ahead. She wondered how the expedition was going. It wasn't likely that the Princess would be able to stay hidden the entire time, but they hadn't returned yet, so maybe she was better at staying concealed than Marie thought. Or the expedition leader was feeling generous. No, more likely pressed for time to get the rations out. As long as the crows didn't cause too much of a problem…_

_Then Marie remembered the attack at the tower. She wondered if perhaps she had provoked it by standing so close to the barrier in the Princess__' cloak for so long… It made sense, but that also meant that the Raven was keeping an eye on their little kingdom yet. And had probably noticed the party leaving. The attack had been after they were a ways out, though. So… the Raven still thought the Princess was inside. That was good - perhaps Marie had created enough of a distraction to keep the Raven from paying attention to the expedition. She hoped so; Leopold would never forgive himself if something happened to the Princess while she was out there. Even though Princess Tutu had her Prince to protect her. But that wasn't Marie's problem right now. Currently, she was just trying to keep out of sight._

_A back door opened. Marie, having regained her breath, quieted. For a few moments, she hoped it was just the owners returning. But she heard no nonchalant steps across the floor, nor any tired sighs of one finally coming home; only heavy breathing. Then, Sir Kurt came into view. Marie immediately shifted to crouch behind the table beside her. Unfortunately, he saw and stepped into the doorway._

"_Marie," he said urgently, "where is the Princess?"_

_Marie stayed quiet, looking for an escape. There was a window, but she wasn__'t sure if she had recovered enough magic to help her break out safely._

"_Marie!" Kurt ordered, quickly moving towards the table._

_Marie shot up and started to go around the table the other way. However, Kurt reached out and shoved the table to the side, into her path. Unable to control her momentum, Marie partially fell onto the table__'s top, but managed to quickly turn around. She saw the angry face of the Princess' protector looming, and she felt fear._

* * *

_Princess Sylvia followed Aldrick for a little while, and Annette followed her; the other assigned guards were helping elsewhere after being given leave by Aldrick. Sylvia saw supplies handed out, gathered into piles, and packed with other gear. Most things seemed to be together already, but she found one pile that was still small. Despite the slight tiredness from their journey, for she was not used to such things, she still wanted to help._

"_Might I assist you?" Princess Sylvia offered a knight carrying things to the small pile._

_He looked questioningly at Annette, who reluctantly nodded. He hesitantly motioned with his head behind him. __"There are still some things to gather… Your Highness."_

_She smiled and nodded, then went with Annette to help carry things. As they picked up items, Annette repeatedly asked that the Princess not take anything too heavy, or too large. Sylvia tried to accommodate the requests, but soon there were no more items of that description left._

"… _Princess," Annette said, "thank you for your assistance, but would you please allow me to continue, and rest yourself?"_

_Princess Sylvia frowned; __"If you can still carry things, then-"_

"_I mean no disrespect, Princess," Annette interrupted, "but you are not used to such work. And we still have our return trip to complete."_

_Sylvia held her protest back, thinking. Before she could create a reply, Annette had gathered another armful and was taking it away. Princess Sylvia pursed her lips and sighed. There were no knights or townsfolk nearby who were not busy that she saw, so she decided to comply with Annette__'s request. She went off to the side, within sight of Annette, and sat on the ground. Despite the extra work she had just been doing, it didn't take long for her to feel restless again. However, she knew that she should wait for Annette to finish helping before she moved on, or Aldrick would insist that she be accompanied by a larger guard force. She lengthened her legs and began stretching. As she did, her mind began to wander…_

Fakir narrowed his eyes. Not this time_._ He didn't have to let her thoughts go into unhelpful places.

"_Are you going to dance?"_

_Princess Sylvia was caught off guard by the sudden question, and looked to its source. __"What? I'm sorry."_

"_Um… are you going to dance?" Leopold repeated, standing nearby._

_She blinked in response. __"… I was not planning to…"_

"_Oh…" Leopold said, sounding disappointed._

_Princess Sylvia looked at him questioningly. __"Why?"_

"_W-well," Leopold replied quickly, "I just assumed that, since you were stretching… you might be… But nevermind, since obviously you aren't."_

_She continued looking at him. __"… Would you like me to?"_

_Leopold made himself pause; __"… Not if you do not wish to, Princess."_

_She could feel the sadness in his words, laced with just a little bit of hope. She looked at the knights, finishing their preparations. How long had it been since they had felt much hope, or even joy? Another day survived against the Raven could hardly count for that. __"Leopold… do you think that the knights would enjoy my dancing?"_

"_Of course!" he responded immediately, "I don't know how anyone couldn't."_

_Sylvia smiled at him appreciatively. __"Thank you, Leopold."_

_He stared at her momentarily, then quickly looked down and muttered something. Clearing his throat, he repeated it louder; __"Does… that mean you are going to dance? Princess?" He looked back up hopefully._

_Still smiling, Princess Sylvia nodded._

_Then a smile spread upon Leopold__'s face, too._

* * *

Fakir wondered if the abrupt switches of scenes would be too confusing. Also, he had wanted to actually get Sylvia dancing by this point… But if things got too confusing, he reminded himself, he could switch up the order of arrangement later. Currently, he still had word flow - he was going to use it while he could.

_Kurt grabbed Marie__'s arms and held them at her sides. "What have you done to the Princess?" he demanded, even his beard bristling with energy._

"_Nothing!" she exclaimed fearfully._

"_Then where is she?" he challenged._

"_She… she's out with the Prince!" Marie said._

_Kurt__'s eyes widened and he looked back the way he'd come. Marie tried squirming, and immediately Kurt's attention was back on her._

"Why_ would you help her do that?__"_

"_Wh-why wouldn't I?" she asked, incredulity mixed with her distress._

_Now it was Kurt who looked incredulous. __"'Why wouldn't'… Have you _looked_ past the barrier lately? There was a crow attack not even an hour ago, directed at you _dressed as the Princess_!__"_

"_But, that was after she was already out!" Marie protested, "And the attack from this morning had been taken care of by Prince Siegfried and the knights! The expedition wasn't going far, I thought it would be safe enough if she were in disguise!"_

"'_Safe _enough'_?__" Kurt repeated; "There is a difference between 'safe' and 'safe enough', and outside is _neither_ of those!__"_

_Marie looked away, tears close to falling, but said nothing. Kurt lessened the strength of his grip a little as she seemed to comprehend her error, but kept a firm hold on her. He waited for her to look back at him, but when she refused, he eventually decided to start questioning her again. Before he could start, though, she spoke. __"… Do you not have any faith in her?" Marie asked._

"… _What?"_

"_Do you really think that the Princess is too naive to care for herself?" Marie repeated, growing bolder and looking back at Kurt._

_Kurt pursed his lips; __"If she thinks that she can go outside with no additional guard, then perhaps she is so naive."_

"_The expedition is trained enough to protect her," Marie pointed out, "And they have survived the dangers before."_

"_When they do not have one of noble blood with them, perhaps," Kurt retorted, "But the Princess requires special care."_

"_Well if that's how you feel, then it's no wonder-" she silenced herself._

_Kurt did not like the intonation. __"No wonder that what?"_

"… _that the Princess doesn't think she can do anything," Marie finished._

"_What?" Kurt snapped, "And what makes you so bold as to think that?"_

"_I need not guess!" Marie replied; "Princess Tutu made it clear in her speech earlier. And such thoughts will only continue, if not even those close to her believe in her."_

"_You know _nothing_, you foolish girl!__" Kurt growled, tightening his grip and getting close to her face. Marie cowered again, and Kurt eventually backed off. He continued glaring, though, and didn't let her go. "I have _every_ faith in the Princess,__" he enunciated, "and she knows enough magic to protect herself. But her selfless spirit will get her into more trouble than she can handle alone."_

"… _And that's when being a part of the group will help," Marie countered tentatively._

"_If_ _they know she is there, maybe!__" he retorted, "They will take no extra precautions if they do not know she is there! Unless this trick was more planned out than I think?"_

"_No…" Marie murmured, avoiding his eyes; "It was a secret from everyone…"_

"_Exactly."_

"_But everyone always looks out for each other on the expeditions!" she protested, "And I doubt that they'll make it the whole_ _way without noticing her.__"_

"_Then why haven't they returned?"_

"_Well, maybe she wasn't discovered until they got to the knights," she argued, "And they really do need to deliver the supplies!"_

"_Is that more important than protecting the Princess?" Kurt challenged._

"_I'm sure that the Princess thinks so," Marie pointed out, "And I bet that the crow attack helped convince everyone to continue, even if they did find her out before reaching the knights. It's not like they're going to hurry back when they know that the Raven has eyes on the gates, after all."_

_Kurt knew she was right. His grip on her increased subconsciously, and she winced a little. __"… You know, I was telling the truth before," she said, "I can't do magic for a time after trying to get that spell through the barrier. I'm still out of magic."_

_His grip lessened, but he didn__'t let go. "And why should I believe you?"_

"_Do you really think that I intended to put the Princess in danger?" Marie shot back, "I only lied to you to help her, and I still believe that she will be perfectly fine, whether or not _you_ have any faith in her.__"_

_Kurt held onto her in silence for a while, staring, studying. Marie held his look at first, but eventually looked away._

"… _If you try to run, or escape again," Kurt eventually intoned, "I will warn the citizens to help capture you."_

"_What is there to warn them about?" Marie questioned, looking back, "I am not a danger-"_

"_I," Kurt interrupted her; "will be searching for you. You will be labeled as a threat to the kingdom. There was a crow attack not but a half hour ago. What do you think will be the reaction?"_

_Marie__'s eyes widened briefly, and she lowered her eyes and looked away in acquiescence._

_Kurt still waited. __"… Do you understand?"_

_Marie nodded, still avoiding eye contact._

"_I said," Kurt repeated, "do you understand?"_

_Marie forced herself to look at him, trepidation in her eyes. __"… Yes."_

_Kurt held her eyes for a few seconds, then carefully let her go. Marie made no move to leave. __"Now," Kurt said, "we are going to talk about what to do about this. And you are going to help."_

_Marie rubbed her arms where he had been gripping her, and half wished she hadn__'t gotten involved with this stupid political affair. The crows were a part of life now, whether anyone wanted them or not! The King was holding out on his own, with some help, as were the people. If the Princess wanted to try to hold out as well, then she should be allowed to. If she couldn't handle it, then that wasn't Marie's fault. But Princess Tutu had Prince Siegfried to look forward to seeing, and lots of people to care for her. If who it was that was watching her changed for a brief period of time, that shouldn't be a problem. And Leopold would be happy to be a part of that group. She wished that they were back, though…_


	17. Questions

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Questions

Ballet classes were finally finished for the day, and Fakir was ready to get back to writing. As he packed his things and started to leave the dance studio, his teacher approached.

"Fakir?"

Fakir paused and looked at her inquiringly.

"Might I have a word?"

He obligingly followed her to the side of the studio, away from the exit. He waited for her to speak, but it took a few moments.

"Fakir… how are you doing?"

Fakir was surprised by the question. "What do you mean by that, Mrs. Katerina?"

"I mean," she continued in a slightly concerned tone, "are you enjoying classes? Are you working on anything in your spare time?"

Fakir was still unsure what she was getting at, but answered at least the first question. "My classes going fine." She pursed her lips a little. He tried to recover; "… Unless you're seeing something I need to work on?"

She was silent, trying to think of what to say.

Fakir didn't like the silence. "Am I not performing well?"

"Of course you are," she assured him, "Your technique is as fine as ever."

"Am I not keeping in rhythm enough?"

"No, you are keeping up wonderfully." She sighed; "I suppose that what I'm worried about is your focus. You are still very much in tune during classes, but as soon as word is given, you are out the door. I barely caught you today," she said, motioning at the exit. The other students were only just now starting to leave. "I wouldn't mind, but you have been almost late on numerous occasions lately. And," she continued before he could protest, "I haven't noticed you using the studio for your own practice for a few weeks now."

Fakir looked a little surprised; he hadn't really thought about it, but now that she brought it up…

"Now that's not to say that your technique is suffering," Mrs. Katerina assured him, "You're still keeping up with the class, after all. But your focus seems to be wandering, and your dancing would be even better if you could sharpen it."

Fakir pondered on her words. His dancing didn't really feel any different. Although, dancing had never exactly been a primary focus for him anyway. So what had changed? Well, a lot of things, if he thought about it, but what that would affect his dancing so much?

"So… is everything alright? Outside of class?" she asked, concern back in her voice.

"Yes;" Fakir responded, although slightly perplexed, "things are fine."

"Are you spending much time with friends?"

Fakir started to answer, but he had to pause and think. Mytho was no longer around. Fakir didn't really have any _friends_ at the school, did he? Duck watched some classes on occasion, and sometimes hung around the fountain, but he wasn't sure if that counted. And being a duck, it was difficult to converse with her at times… As he thought, Fakir realized that he knew relatively few people on campus, let alone any very well - and Autor did _not_ count.

Mrs. Katerina sighed in his silence. "You have become quite solitary lately. You weren't always like that, you know. While you've always been quiet, you seemed to show interest in spending some time with at least one of the other dancers." She smiled briefly, then frowned in confusion. "But… I can't remember exactly who it was… Or, if they're even still here. I don't think… strange…" she trailed off, her face contorting in consternation.

"They're no longer in the dance program here," Fakir supplied, not wanting her to think too much about it. He doubted she would remember anything, but he didn't want to risk it. The memory of Mytho for most had faded into a fairy tale - it would be best to keep it that way.

"Ah, yes;" she said, relieved; "that makes sense. Is he still around?"

"He moved."

"Oh…" Worry returned to her voice as she continued; "Well, that still leads me questions. Like, do you still feel the same way about dance as you once did?"

Fakir wanted to answer 'yes', but his mind turned to before, how dance had simply been a way to be near Mytho. A disciplined way, and a way to give his focus over to one thing, but he wasn't concerned with much else. And now, how much more time he had been spending writing in proportion to his dancing. It didn't feel different, entirely, for he had always worked on other things, like his sword skills. But he felt she was right in this case.

"It is perfectly alright for you to have other interests," she continued, "but if you want your dancing to be truly great, you do need to have a certain level of commitment. Is your passion for dance waning now that your friend has left, Fakir?"

Again, Fakir found himself unable to answer immediately. He knew that he had changed, and for the better, certainly. But had his interests also changed so much…?

Mrs. Katerina seemed to sense his dilemma. "Just think about it, Fakir; please. And let me know if I can help with anything," she said with a brief sympathetic smile. "Maybe getting to know some of the other advanced dancers better could help." She waited for a response, but not getting one, she turned and left him thinking.

Fakir wondered if maybe his thoughts about dance _had_ changed, along with the rest of him. _Not_ doing ballet was never something that had crossed his mind. But, the entire reason he had started was because of Mytho. He had stayed with it to be near Mytho. Now that Mytho was gone… was his reason for staying gone, too?

No, he quickly assured himself. Mytho didn't direct his life anymore. Ballet was still something that he did regularly, he enjoyed, and something he was good at. Unlike some other things he could think of. Fakir was staying with ballet because _he_ wanted to.

… So why was he spending less time on it now that he actually had the freedom to do so? The Raven had been defeated, Mytho was safe inside of the story, and Duck… Well, Duck was at least not in any danger. Technically, he should have more time than ever to devote to practicing dance now, even with writing a little bit. But yet that didn't seem to be the case.

The door shut as the last student left, bringing Fakir out of his thoughts. He looked up, and started heading to the door. Maybe… Mrs. Katerina had talked to him because he was almost late that particular morning. He had spent much of the previous night writing. She had voiced concern because it was immediately relevant. But if he managed his time a bit better, he shouldn't have that problem in the future. He was still keeping up with the class, after all, even she had said; maybe he just needed to better organize how he split his time between writing and practicing. Yes, he could still do both - it was just taking a while for him to figure out how.

He left the studio and headed towards the dorms. Maybe he could make a schedule later, or at least plan one out. But later.


	18. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

_The Princess approached Aldrick, Annette at her side, and Leopold not far behind. Aldrick noticed, and bowed; __"Are you ready to return, Princess?"_

"… _What?" The Princess asked._

"_The supplies have been handed out," Aldrick clarified, "and the knights themselves are nearly ready to move out. We ought to do the same."_

"_No! Not yet!" Princess Sylvia objected, "Please." _

_Aldrick raised his eyebrows, but quickly assumed a neutral face so as not to seem disrespectful; __"Why would we stay, Princess?"_

"_I wish to dance for the knights. They have been so brave and kind, and… it seems that I am not being allowed to do much else for them."_

_Aldrick pursed his lips, glancing at Annette and Leopold. Leopold__'s eyes seemed to share the Princess' desire; Annette looked elsewhere. "Princess…" He looked around at the knights as they rested temporarily, only a few still checking over the supplies. He thought about how long their expedition had already been gone, how much longer it would take if he acquiesced to her request. How much longer it would take if he didn't. He sighed. "That is something you must take up with Sir Corvin, I am afraid. I do not know how urgently they are needed elsewhere."_

"_What about urgency?" Corvin asked as he approached._

"_The… Princess simply has a request, Sir Corvin," Aldrick replied, surprised, "regarding the knights."_

_Corvin turned to Princess Sylvia._

"_I wish to dance for you all," she said, "I know that you all work very hard, and it must be very tiring. I would wait for the others as well, but… They are busy, and we will be leaving soon. I understand that you may be departing as well. But before you go, please allow me to dance."_

"_Well…" Sir Corvin responded, "That… is an unusual request." He looked around at the knights._

"_If you will not let me help in other ways," she continued, sensing hesitancy, "at least let me share some joy as I can."_

"_Our Princess is a very graceful dancer!" Leopold threw in._

"_She dances every day," Annette added, wanting to make sure his hesitation was not for lack of validation_; "_And it would allow you all some time to rest, as well.__"_

"… _Our Princess' dancing skill is highly regarded in Ironrod," Aldrick said._

_Eventually, Corvin responded; __"I am afraid I cannot say that everyone here will appreciate it, but… I can at least grant you the time to do as you wish, Your Highness." He bowed._

_Princess Sylvia smiled. __"Thank you, Sir Corvin." While she had been hoping to do more when she'd left Ironrod, this was at least something she knew helped._

* * *

"… _I do apologize for my terseness," Kurt said, in a tone that did not suggest he was especially sorry, "but Princess Sylvia is crucial to the kingdom."_

_Marie unintentionally scoffed aloud._

"_She is the only hope for our kingdom to survive," Kurt asserted, staring at her._

"… _Do forgive me," she responded, "I appreciate the uplifting effect our Princess has, but she is not one to be outside fighting, nor gathering supplies. While she is helping a little, I do not see how her dancing will allow our kingdom to survive-"_

"_King Marius will protect this kingdom until his dying breath," Kurt interrupted her solemnly, "but I fear that he will not outlast this war. And a kingdom with no ruler will not last."_

_A nervous chuckle escaped Marie__'s lips. She knew that the King was not in the best of conditions, but surely he would not let the war take him. Although, the fighting had already lasted longer than anticipated… Could he really be so strained? She knew that most all of the other magic users in the kingdom were either helping King Marius to uphold the barrier, or had been sent out to fight. The barrier had been kept up for at least a full year now. How much longer…?_

"_The Princess' unifying effect is exactly what makes it so important that she be the one to survive and rule," Kurt continued; "We do not know how many, if any, of the other kingdoms have survived the onslaught, or will continue to. We cannot chose which ones will last and which will fall, and that leaves our future very uncertain, unless we take certain precautions. Ensuring the Princess' safety is _chief_ among those.__"_

_Marie was feeling guiltier than she would have liked. She avoided eye contact for a while, but eventually risked a glance at Kurt. He was watching her with folded arms. She looked away again, and fidgeted with one of her braids. __"So… why are you telling me this?"_

"_So you will know the _weight_ of what you have done,__" Kurt said sternly, "and never attempt to do so again. As well as assist in her return."_

_Marie was quiet for a little while. __"Well…" she started sullenly, "what if… I don't care? What if I don't care what happens to Ironrod?"_

"_That is impossible. Even if you truly did not care for the kingdom at large, you have no choice but to care about what remains of it - it is your haven. Otherwise, you would be living outside, at the mercy of the crows. If you truly did not care for Ironrod, then you would already be out there, would you not? You have been on expeditions; you could easily have left then."_

_Marie squeezed her braid. She glanced at the window again. Kurt watched her movements. She pursed her lips. __"I…" She sighed, then looked up at Kurt. "What can be done now? The expedition may even be on their way back now-"_

"_And the crows are still out there. They do not give up easily, as you know," Kurt interrupted; "We need to go out and ensure her safe return. I can provide most of the protection, but your magical aid would be appreciated, and given the circumstances, required."_

"_I mentioned earlier that my magic is still recovering from earlier; I don't know if it will be restored enough to be of much help."_

"_Then we will find out, won't we?"_

"… _I will need to pick up some things from my home," Marie said._

_Kurt nodded; __"You can pick them up on our way to the gates. First, we must go to the castle."_

"_What?"_

"_How else do you expect we will leave the barrier before the expedition returns? King Marius keeps the barrier very well maintained, as you discovered earlier."_

"_That was mostly the crows' fault," Marie automatically defended, but quickly switched subjects; "But won't the King… _not_ want me to leave, once he knows what__'s happening?" Worry was rising in her words._

"_What your punishment will be for such serious actions against the kingdom will be up to King Marius," Kurt said, "but until the Princess is safe again, you will be under my care. For better or worse."_

_Marie looked apprehensive._

"_Yes, he is our King," Kurt continued, "but she is our Princess. I am charged with her care, and I will fulfill that duty. King Marius does have the authority and very right to detain you, but I can put forth sufficient reasons for you to assist me. If you are helpful in retrieving Princess Sylvia, I may even be able to convince the King to be lenient upon your return. _If_ you do as instructed.__"_

_Marie pursed her lips, wishing yet again she had put more thought into this plan beforehand. Eventually, though, she nodded, and they left the building._

* * *

_Princess Sylvia had cleared a space for herself, and smoothed it out as best she could. The knights were gathered and waiting. The citizens of the expedition were nearby as well, but their main task was to watch for crow activity. The Princess had removed her cloak, and despite her somewhat plain dress, she was not hard to distinguish. As Sylvia had thought about what she wanted to share, she__'d decided to do a slight variation of her morning routine in town. It gave hope to the citizens; surely it could do something similar for the knights._

"_Thank you for your bravery," she began, "and for the hope that you bring to all the kingdoms subject to the Raven's tyranny. Even if it is not always expressed, I know that we are all very grateful. With your courage, and luck, we can endure through these challenges. Until that time ends, may we look forward in hope to a new day's light."_

_And thus she raised her arms, and began her grande port de bras._


	19. Reminders

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Reminders

Fakir sat by the fountain, rereading some papers. Duck swam in the fountain, and a few students made idle chat beside her. It was hard for him not to overhear at least a few snippets of their conversation. "Mrs. Katerina… talk…" Was there really nothing better to do at the school than gossip? After a while, they moved on, although they glanced at Fakir a few times before doing so. But he really did not see the need to worry about it, even if it dealt with him. As long as no one was mentioning Mytho, he didn't need to care what they said.

"Well, I thought I might find you elsewhere, but here works just as well."

Autor approached Fakir. Fakir deliberately tucked his writing underneath blank pages.

"I hear that you had a little talk with your dance instructor yesterday. I assume it wasn't just about your footwork."

Fakir shuffled his papers into a more orderly stack. Duck recognized Autor's voice, and swam over.

Autor noticed her. "Well if it isn't your little muse," he smirked; "Has he shown you anything yet?"

"Quack?" Duck said confusedly, "Quaaack?"

"Just say what you want to get at, Autor," Fakir said.

Autor pouted a little before complying. "Have you ever considered that dancing might not be your forte, Fakir?"

Immediately Duck started arguing; "Quack? Quack quaaack!"

"Erm…" Autor said, unsure how to respond to her flapping, "While I'm sure your dancing is nice…" he looked back at Fakir; "What I mean is, maybe dance is not your specific gift to give to the world."

Fakir frowned; "… What do you mean?"

"Being at this school for so long, surely you've noticed that some people are more gifted in some areas than others?" Autor continued; "Gifts are meant to be used. You can improve your gifts by devoting more time to them. If you have things competing for your time, then you need to evaluate which of them you have the greater talent in, and then focus your energies on it."

The idea of focus again. Annoying; Fakir had already addressed this problem for himself. Fakir's expression didn't change; "… Anything else?"

"Well, it's a pretty pertinent plan, I think," Autor said, "Especially if you are as serious about writing as you say you are."

"I have my own plans," Fakir stated as he got up and began walking off. Duck turned from Autor, and quickly jumped out after Fakir.

"I'm just asking you to think on it, Fakir," Autor said after him, "Think on how much better your writing could be if you could focus more on it."

"Quack?" Duck asked concernedly as she followed Fakir, "Quack? Quack…"

"It's nothing," Fakir responded.

"Quack? Quaack." She argued.

Fakir increased his pace.

"Qu-quaaack!" she protested as she struggled to keep up.

Fakir tried to put Autor's comments from his mind. There were no specific 'gifts' that people had; you earned what you could do, and do well. And then you had to continue working at it. His own… 'power' with writing was just that - a power passed down through his family. Not a talent. Possibly even a curse. And he would work to get better control of it. At his own pace.

He already had control in his dancing. As long as he kept up with it, he would continue to advance, or at least keep his place among the skilled dancers. Talent had nothing to do with it.

He just needed to work out that schedule he'd planned on doing. He could still work on both dance and writing without neglecting either one. He already had a possible plan. If he wrote it out, he would have an even better grasp of it. That's what he would do next - after practicing ballet. And then he'd continue writing for today.

Duck stopped following him, seeing that he was getting into a focus zone. Fakir usually blocked everything when he was in one of those. She frowned as she watched him briskly head towards the boys' dorms. He had been in a fairly good mood up until then. Why had Autor told him to stop ballet? Sure, Fakir hadn't told her about his talk with Mrs. Katerina yet, but she was sure it couldn't be anything _too_ serious, if Fakir wasn't worried about it. The girls at school always made things sound worse than they really were.

She heard steps beside her, and looked up to see Autor watching Fakir with her. She glared, then started yelling at him, flapping simultaneously; "Quack! Quack quack? Quaaaack quack-"

"I'm trying to help him," Autor interrupted her, not even pretending to listen; "He needs to focus if he's going to be a great writer. I tried to teach him that before, and it worked, didn't it?"

Duck paused, and grudgingly relented; "Quack… Quack…"

"… Let me know if he shares anything with you. I'm trying to keep an eye out for changes in reality, but since he _refuses_ to tell me anything about his writing, it's a bit difficult to narrow the search."

"Quack? Quack quack?" Duck protested.

He paused; "Um… just… tap your foot with your wing or something, I guess…" he sighed, "Just let me know when he's written more. I'll have to try to get details from him."

Duck was unsure if she should trust Autor, but she didn't tell him no.

Autor took her silence as confirmation, and walked off. "And now _I__'m_ reduced to asking for help…" he muttered as he left. At least he knew someone somewhat close to Fakir, or rather, the only one who was. Given, she was a duck, but she could still communicate. A little. Things might be even more difficult if he didn't know her. Probably. …He hoped that Fakir shared something with her soon.


	20. Chapter Fourteen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Fakir set aside a possible plan for the next week: attend classes, walk Duck back, practice ballet, write, research… He didn't usually care to specify his time physically like this, but he was going to prove that he could manage. Autor was being aggravating about it on purpose, but as usual, he did have a point. And now Fakir had addressed it. He had already gotten some frustration out with dancing, and now that this was done with, he could return to what he wanted to do - writing. Autor had been right about another thing: Fakir did feel like he was being inspired lately. It had made him wary at first, but in the past weeks nothing had transferred over to this world. Maybe his initial thoughts had been right, and he didn't need to worry due to the obscurity of his topic. That didn't mean he would be any less careful, but he could at least focus as much on the execution of his writing as on the content. Which reminded him of the situation still being worked out…

"_Take _her_ outside?__" King Marius fumed, "After what she has just done?"_

"_It is the most expedient plan, my King," Kurt replied, "With her magic, things will be accomplished much faster."_

_The King paced as he muttered; __"I have half a mind to make _her_ uphold the barrier while I go outside; we are talking of my daughter, after all! But I know that Ironrod would only suffer more for it__…"_

_Kurt was kneeling in front King Marius, head bowed in deference and patience. Marie was kneeling behind him, heart racing. She wanted to look up to see the King__'s face, but she was too afraid to risk it; she could feel the King's emotions giving the barrier a surge of magical energy. As he fell to silence, however, she garnered the courage to glance up. In that brief moment, she saw both fury and anxiety on his face. She stared back at the floor, having no more desire to think on his state, and hoped he would speak quickly so that her anticipation would end: whether she was to help Kurt or be thrown in jail on the spot. Or worse._

_Eventually, the King stood still. __"… You truly believe that she will help you?" he questioned._

"_I can guarantee it, my King," Kurt replied, "She has every reason to do so, and as I said before, has already agreed to do it. I can handle things if she changes her mind."_

_King Marius stared a few moments more, then motioned for Kurt to come closer. Kurt complied, and the King whispered harshly; __"I see that I cannot dissuade you from this, and it is… a sensible plan. But just so you understand, if anything unfortunate were to happen to this girl while you are outside, I would hardly hold it against you."_

_Kurt listened, then waited before replying gravely, __"My King, I know that you would not say such a thing under normal circumstances. While I do not wish to argue with you, may I say that I believe it would be better if she were to return and face the consequences of her actions."_

_King Marius licked his lips, and gave a sigh; __"Yes… I suppose it would. But nevertheless," he continued, looking at Kurt, "your priority is Princess Sylvia. Ensure her safety before worrying about this other girl."_

"_Always, your Majesty," Kurt responded with a nod._

_The King nodded, and motioned for them to leave; __"Go, then."_

_Marie__'s heart leapt, and she likewise shot up, bowing; "Thank you, your Majesty!"_

"_Be off quickly," the King snapped, "before I decide otherwise!"_

_Marie flinched and turned around. Kurt made no immediate reaction to the King__'s anger, but bowed and walked briskly to the doors. Marie followed him, and they left._

_King Marius watched the door for a while, finally beginning to calm the tempest inside of him. He sighed. __"Does God not pity a weary king at war?" He made a fist, trying to even out his energy. The barrier's magic required focus and strength to uphold. But too much, and he would exhaust himself before the evening came, which was when the heavier attacks would be. There had already been two attacks this day; he needed to conserve his energy. "Can the spirits not even spare a single smile? Must they constantly tear away my kingdom from all sides?"__ He unclenched his fist. __"I thought they might at least be kind to my only daughter…"_

* * *

_Princess Sylvia concluded her dance, and held her fifth position serenely. After a few moments, applause started. It did not take long for everyone to join in. She curtsied, and smiled at the brave crowd members. She made her way over to the side, and the clapping eventually died as she reentered the group._

"_That was beautiful, your Highness."_

"_Thank you, Princess Sylvia."_

"_You did wonderfully, Princess!"_

_Sylvia was glad to receive the compliments, but what truly warmed her heart were the smiles she saw on the knights__' faces. They looked happy and relaxed, nothing like the grim weariness that she had seen earlier._

_Sir Corvin approached her, a smile on his face as well. He bowed before addressing her. __"Thank you for helping us forget our troubles for a time, your Highness. You are truly graceful and skilled at dancing."_

_Princess Sylvia beamed; __"I am grateful for the chance to help, Sir Corvin. Thank you for allowing me the time to do this." She looked once more at the gathering, and her smile fell a little as she thought of who was still unable to be there._

"_I regret that the Prince was unable to see your performance," Corvin said, noticing; "But I will be certain to recommend it once this war is over."_

_Sylvia smiled again; __"Thank you, Sir Corvin. I would truly appreciate it."_

"_Princess," Aldrick said, "you did beautifully. I must ask, are you very tired?"_

_She blinked; __"No, I am fine."_

"_Then, may I suggest that we begin our return?" Aldrick continued; "We have already been absent long enough, and I am sure that the entryway is clear of crows by this point."_

_Corvin nodded; __"Yes, I agree."_

_Princess Sylvia looked once more at the knights, and then consented as well; __"Yes… that is probably best."_

_Aldrick nodded, then left to gather the rest of the group. Princess Sylvia looked towards Ironrod, and silently hoped that they might run into Prince Siegfried on their return trip. She didn__'t want to be selfish, but she had really been hoping to see more of him than the glimpse of his armor as he rode by…_

* * *

_Kurt helped Marie dismount in front of her house. They quickly went inside, and Marie began gathering items._

"… _Do you think we'll be able to leave?" Marie asked as she worked._

"_Of course," Kurt replied._

"_I mean, won't it look suspicious if you and I leave alone, while an expedition is still out?"_

"_Yes, but there is nothing that can be done about that," Kurt said, "We must go out to find the Princess."_

"… _Do you still have the Princess' cloak?"_

_Kurt blinked; __"No; it's still at the tower you fled from."_

"_If we had that," Marie suggested, "I could pretend to be the Princess again."_

"_I think you have done enough impersonation for now."_

"_I'm just saying," Marie argued, "it's not generally known that the Princess has left the gates, except to you, me, and the King. We could keep it that way a little longer."_

"… _Everyone will eventually know what you have done, Marie," Kurt said._

"_I know. But, think about it," Marie insisted; "If the citizens know that the Princess is missing, they will worry and want to help. If we keep it secret, at least for now, there will be less panic. It will still be strange to see the Princess leave the gates with you alone, but it will be less strange than if you go with me. You are not known to leave the Princess' side, after all."_

_Kurt had been contemplating how to explain the situation to the gatekeepers, and had been trying to avoid the same conclusion. Unfortunately, as she pointed out the problems that would arise otherwise, he continued to see the logic in the plan. He sighed. __"Fine; we will ride _quickly_ to the tower and pick up the cloak. Then we will leave. You will say nothing, there or at the gate, and conserve your magic for outside.__"_

"… _Thank you, Sir Kurt."_

"_Remember to follow my instructions," Kurt said as she tied up a small sack. She nodded, and handed him a charm bag. He took it, and they left._


	21. Chapter Fifteen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Fakir managed to awake and get to class in a timely manner, despite staying up later than he intended, writing. As he changed in the locker room, he overheard some discussion.

"… signing up for the auditions next week…"

"Yeah, they want to keep it to one day or close to it so there's more time for practices, I hear…"

Fakir remembered hearing Mrs. Katerina mention auditions for the next ballet at the beginning of class. He should probably try out for at least some role. He wondered what it might do to his schedule with writing. He hadn't planned that far ahead yet, but if he was going to devote adequate time to both… What was he thinking, performing was a main goal for ballet dancers! Taking part in productions like this was one of the purposes of specializing in ballet. It would also be a good opportunity to prove he was still dedicated; to himself and others.

On his way to the library, he stopped by the sign-up sheet and filled some of the empty space. Then he continued to a desk, pen and ink in hand.

_Marie wore the Princess__' cloak once more, although this time she wasn't worried about Kurt. As they approached the gate guard, Kurt reined the horse to a halt. Marie felt slightly awkward riding behind him, but he had said it was the easiest way, aside from her getting her own horse, which she had apparently forfeited the right to. She was to keep her arms around him at all times, to ensure that she didn't 'accidentally' fall off. Not that she would ever do such a thing, but she did not want to press her luck by arguing._

"_The expedition has not returned yet, Princess," the main guard reported._

"_We are not here to await them," Kurt responded, "We are going through."_

_The guard flinched in shock; __"W-what?"_

_Kurt lowered his voice; __"The king has asked us to perform a task outside the gates. I agree that it is undesirable, but so are the circumstances. Because of urgency, I cannot elaborate. Now please, send the signal and let us through."_

"_B-but, Sir Kurt," the guard stammered, "we received word that there is a mass of crows outside our gates! Prince Siegfried and some of his knights are dispatching them, but-"_

"_Are they near this particular gate?"_

_The guard shook his head, __"No, but-"_

"_Then I will repeat that this is _urgent_.__"_

_The guard__'s face contorted in anxiety; "But-"_

"_I have faith in Prince Siegfried and his troops. The King is waiting for the signal that we are leaving. I suggest that you not delay us;" Kurt's tone did not allow for questions._

_The guard looked at Marie, then at the gate, and back at Kurt. He still hesitated._

_Before Kurt could say anything more, Marie spoke up in the Princess__' voice; "Please, Machum. It's to help protect us."_

_Kurt tensed, but only shot a glance at her. The guard softened at her tone, and sighed. __"… You will need a new password. Two, one, three." Both Kurt and Marie nodded, and Machum called up to the signaler, "Give the signal!" The flagman hesitated, and Machum reassured him; "I know! Urgent from the King!"_

_The flagman still seemed unsure, but as Machum took a breath to yell at him again, the man lifted his flags. Machum let his breath out as the message was sent, and looked back at Marie; __"You have a charm from Marie, right?"_

_Marie smiled a little under the hood, and nodded, indicating towards a bag on the saddle._

_Machum nodded, then turned to Kurt. __"Two, one, three. Godspeed, Sir Kurt."_

_The flash came, and the gate was opened. Kurt urged the horse through quickly. __"Hold fast," he instructed Marie._

_Her stomach sank as she realized what he was going to do, and she quickly squeezed her legs and grasped around his torso as he urged the horse to a gallop. Then the gates closed and the barrier was raised again. Marie clutched onto Kurt with fervor, bouncing against the mare__'s back and pressing her head against his back to try to keep her hood up. If her hood fell, the guards would not see the white hair of their Princess._

"_I told you- to be quiet!" Kurt snapped as they dashed down the path, his voice in rhythm with the horse's strides._

_Marie turned her head to reply in her normal voice; __"I- I had- to!" She sounded a bit frantic as her head bounced against him._

"_And- your magic?" he retorted._

"_It test-tested it!" __The forced stutter annoyed her, but it also made conversation short._

_Kurt focused on getting distance from the wall. That did not take very long, however, and soon he slowed the mare to a trot. Marie continued bouncing, and she felt even more unstable._

"_Ca-can't- you sl-OW!" Marie exclaimed as she bit her tongue trying to communicate. Her hood finally fell back as well._

_He eventually slowed the mare down to a walk, which greatly reduced the bouncing. Kurt kept the pace brisk, but didn__'t push any further. After a few moments, Marie leaned back a little, no longer plastered to Kurt's back._

"_You should follow my instructions more closely, Marie," Kurt intoned._

"… _My hood fell down," she commented, once she felt she could speak again._

"_We're far enough from the wall, keeping the hood down will be better," Kurt said._

_Marie sighed, sounding frazzled. After getting used to the gait, she complained, __"We would be faster if we had two horses."_

"_Yes, we would," Kurt agreed, "But I would have to trust you more to allow that. And if that were the case, we probably wouldn't need to be out here right now."_

_Mare was grateful that she couldn__'t see his stare, but she imagined it. "Again, I… I apologize for that."_

_As they ambled on, Marie looked at the desolation around them. She kept an eye out for the expedition party, sure that they were returning by now. But it was hard to ignore what the Raven had done to their kingdom. And everything else. Even though she had seen it before, when she was inside the walls she could forget about it; forget that the war had destroyed so much._

"_And this is where you thought the Princess would be safe?" Kurt's tone was even._

"_I… Well it's not like we're being ambushed by crows at every corner!" she defended. "And… she wanted to come out anyway."_

"_I know that Princess Sylvia would never have asked you to help her with such a thing, even if she had wanted to," Kurt returned._

"_No, not exactly," Marie said, "but… I could see it. I knew that she wanted to go and see the Prince, and I thought that if she did, then maybe-" realizing what she was about to say, she recovered; "Maybe she could raise the morale of his troops too. And again, the whole middle-of-the-day situation…"_

_Kurt glanced at the sun, which was lowering now. __"Yes, usually the expeditions have returned by this point, or at least been near the gates. But if Princess Sylvia did encounter any troops, she would have stayed to comfort and encourage them longer than anticipated. Surely you might have thought of that."_

_Marie looked down; __"Yes… I-" she paused, then sighed; "Yes," she repeated sullenly._

_Kurt let the silence hold for a little while, then said, __"Do not let your realization keep you from looking for the Princess. You have begun to redeem yourself; continue and be of assistance now."_

"_Yes," Marie replied. She lifted her head and actively kept an eye out for signs of the expedition as they continued on the path._


	22. Fixation

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Fixation

"How goes the writing, Fakir?"

Fakir had just returned some books to the library, and hadn't noticed he was passing Autor on his way out. Of course, Autor had noticed. Fakir briefly glanced at Autor and replied, "Fine."

"Even with your ballet practice?"

Fakir sighed and paused in his exit. Without turning, he responded, "Yes, Autor; I can handle a little multi-tasking."

Autor tensed, but tried to keep his tone even; "Given your intensity in accomplishing tasks, I would imagine that it's more than a little 'multi-tasking.' Are you sure that something isn't suffering because of it?"

Fakir calmed himself; "Of course. I've only been monitoring it for a few days, but I'm sure I can manage."

"Are you sure you're not overestimating yourself?" Autor sneered.

Fakir turned around. "I don't think so; _you_ always seem to be the one praising my so-called talents. Why don't you let me use them according to my own will?"

"_Your_ will?" Autor emphasized, "Are you sure about that?"

Fakir was tiring of Autor's games. "I will do what I want," he responded, then turned to leave again.

For a second, Autor's face darkened, and he snapped back, "It doesn't work like that!"

Fakir stopped again, and glanced back at Autor. "Oh? Then how does it work?"

Autor glared at him, then glanced at the rest of the library. It was mostly empty, but Autor respected the place too much to get into a heated argument right there. He got up and left with Fakir. Fakir thought about just walking away, but Autor would probably keep bringing it up, so he decided to bring an end to the subject.

They walked towards the dormitories, and Autor started talking; "Your skills, your _talents_, do not just… 'happen.' They take focus and training to hone and be worth anything. Some things you may have a natural tendency for, but you still have to _practice_. With _focus_. You have to be aware of what you're doing and repeat it until you can manipulate it effectively."

"You've already given me this lecture, you know," Fakir said.

"Well apparently you still need it, because it hasn't sunken in yet!" Autor responded.

"In case you didn't notice, I _have_ done this before," Fakir countered, "I maintained my training as a knight while attending ballet classes for _years_; all while keeping an eye on Mytho."

"Yes, and you saw how well _that _worked out for you."

Fakir said nothing, but sped up to outpace Autor.

Autor immediately gritted his teeth in frustration, but sped up and calmed his voice; "I don't mean t… I'm just pointing out, Fakir, that this is serious. You have to make a choice. You can't commit to live your life on two different paths. Either be a dancer, or be a writer, but you can't have both."

Fakir stopped in his tracks and Autor bumped into him. Fakir turned; "Why not?"

Autor sneered a little as he readjusted his glasses. "Because life simply doesn't work like that. If you dedicate yourself to something, it will turn out better if you focus _only_ on that one thing. _I_ think that the choice is clear enough, but then again, I've always seen clearer than-"

"And what about you, then?" Fakir retorted, "Isn't your main focus in the music department?"

Autor sighed and crossed his arms. "That is different - music and writing were practically made to compliment each other. There are formulas and patterns to be made and manipulated in both areas, and I can easily see them. Personally, I have worked hard to be one of the better performers in the school. I split my time between music and writing, but the subject overlap is considerable. I can still work on my writing while playing concerts, no matter the level. The patterns give me insight into logical consequences, and how to affect them. Can you say the same for your dancing? While there may be some deep inner-subject overlap that I don't see because I'm not a dancer, it's fairly obvious that what little there may be is not of much use for writing. Can you give all the dedication and practice that both of those arts demand to be considered well done, simultaneously?"

Fakir stared defiantly at Autor. "… Yes."

"Really?" Autor snapped; "How far along are you in your story?"

"I've passed the half-way point."

"… Well," Autor admitted, "that's some progress. But your ballet hasn't been the greatest, it seems."

"That's because I didn't have things planned out before," Fakir responded; "I've addressed that, and I've got things better organized now."

"Oh really?" Autor challenged, "How much longer before you finish this story?"

Fakir was getting fed up with Autor's accusations; "I'll be done before the auditions next week."

Autor's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Oh?"

Fakir hadn't really thought about the statement, but there was no way he was backing down from it now. "Yes."

"… Well then," Autor said, his voice a bit more sedated, "I look forward to seeing it. Don't forget that you said I could look at it when you finished."

Fakir nodded.

"… Right then. Good luck, Fakir." Autor said as he left Fakir; "And don't fall behind in anything."

Fakir clenched his fist; he wouldn't. He would prove Autor wrong. He would do it. He would prove it to himself, too.

* * *

Duck had been on her way to the boy's dorms to check on Fakir; she didn't usually go in, but if she saw him through the window, it would explain where he was. He had briefly stopped by earlier, but had barely even made eye contact with her. He was getting more distant lately. Sure, he still walked with her back to Charon's, and she saw him when she was around the school, but he didn't really talked with her much. He just muttered and wrote. Not that she minded, she was glad that he was writing. But he used to write and still talk a little with her; he even smiled sometimes. She still remembered that time he had laughed, what, only a week ago? No, it had to have been more than that! But as she thought about it, although she couldn't remember the exact day, the most it could have been was one or two days over a week. Why did it feel like so long ago? She sighed. Maybe it was because Fakir was the only one she talked to. Well, as much as she could. Other birds didn't understand why she got so excited about dancing, and the other students didn't seem to take much notice of her. Of course, she couldn't really expect them to _want_ to talk to her; she was just a duck, after all. But that was ok; it gave her more time to practice dancing. It was a little harder to do with wings and webbed feet, but she managed to keep up the basics, at least. Not that she expected to turn back into a girl again, but it was always nice to dream about… And besides, she loved dancing too much to stop just because she was a duck! She could practically hear music to dance to wherever she was-

Duck stopped. Actually, she did hear music; a piano. Looking around, she realized that she was near the music building on campus. That hadn't been where she'd intended to go… But the music sounded nice, and she wanted to practice ballet a little now that she was thinking about it. She would go to the boys' dorms after this song finished. Listening closely to the music, she could mostly figure out the beat, but it was too distant to be able to keep time properly. The front door hadn't closed all the way, so Duck squeezed in and followed the sound. It didn't take long for her to find a hallway where the music was much more audible. She smiled to herself and made fifth position.

As the song went along, she found it very pretty, but it also felt rather forceful. It gave her energy to lift her legs a little higher, but more out of anxiety than desire. She also had to slow her own tempo to at least half of that which was being played, but she assumed that was because she wasn't very good at keeping time. At the end, she relaxed and ruffled her feathers, a wave of air cooling her skin. She was about to leave, when a jarring bang of chords exploded.

"QUACK!" she exclaimed, falling over with shock. But the sound lingered, like the pianist had forgotten to move on. Or was stuck. Or, the piano was stuck…? Confused, Duck went to the door the music was coming from; it had also not closed all the way, like the front door, as if someone had been in a hurry when they went in. She didn't see anyone from the doorway, since the piano's bench was on the other side of the piano. The dissonance continued as she looked, fading only slightly as time continued to pass. Carefully creeping in, Duck eventually saw a pair of legs at the piano bench. They were wearing pants; it was probably one of the boys. Duck went around a little more and could finally see more of the boy; he was face-down on top of the piano keys, elbows bent and his hands under his forehead. What was going on? Concerned, she hurried closer. However, before she got all the way there, the sound stopped and he started lifting up off the piano. Panicking, Duck hid behind one of the piano legs. Peeking around it, she saw the boy's face lift limply towards the ceiling, his arms hanging at his sides. It was Autor!

"Why do you chose to mock me…" he muttered.

Duck frowned; who was he-

"Why is it that I, who know so much about the craft, am denied the gift for it?" he fumed through gritted teeth. He clenched both fists and raised them, tucking his chin in a grimace, eyes squeezing shut. He wavered in the air a moment, then slowly brought his hands down. "Maybe… I am simply meant to be a pawn… Despite my capabilities otherwise."

He drooped a hand over the piano keys, and loosely played a few scales. Duck didn't understand what he was talking about, but figured she should probably leave. She didn't know what to do anyway. She began sneaking back towards the door, first going to the other side of the piano. But before she left its shadow of safety, Autor began talking again.

"But… of Drosselmeyer? Or… does someone else hold the pen now…?"

_Drosselmeyer?_ Duck turned around. What _was_ he talking about?

"Will I always be a pawn…?" he repeated faintly, then stopped playing. He sighed, then continued in exasperation, "… Better a pawn aware of myself than a senseless fool ignorant of my position. Knowledge is always better."

Autor stood up. Duck stood between him and the door, close to the piano. He noticed her, and his face changed a bit. _"You're_ here? Does that mean that Fakir has… told you something?" He came out from behind the piano bench towards her, obviously keen to get to her. Duck took a step back in apprehension. He stopped once free standing, though, his face calming again. "No… Why should I care so much? I'll get to see it soon enough." He folded his arms and looked at Duck, his face a mask of arrogance. "Thank you for your cooperation, but Fakir and I have come to an agreement. He will finish the story within the next week, and then show it to me. I will no longer require your assistance, though I can't say the same for Fakir. He seems to write more when you're involved, after all."

Wait, _involved_? Did that mean that Fakir was writing about her? Or was Autor just being snarky again? Oh; maybe he just meant that Fakir wrote when she was nearby… Which made sense. Duck frowned at Autor; why did he have to be so confusing?

"But what to do with it…" Autor muttered as he put a hand to his chin in thought, "He has the gift, but he needs to learn about it. He refuses my help, but he needs to _learn_…" Autor's face lit up a little in surprise; "Perhaps… I am the mentor figure? Yes…" Autor smiled, "Yes, that is the only thing that makes sense!"

He looked at Duck again, still grinning. Duck found it unsettling, and reacted; "Qu-quack! Quack quack!"

Autor chuckled at her squawks. "I guess you would be opposed to me working with him again. But I realize now that I'll have to take different tactics when working with Fakir." His face became serious again, "And whether or not he wants my help, he needs it. If he is going to continue writing, then he will need instruction. If he refuses to transfer to the English department, then I am the only one who will help him; especially if he keeps being so secretive about the contents of his stories."

Duck's worry was not lessened; "Quack…"

"That's just the way it is." Autor said, although Duck wasn't sure if he was talking to her or not. He then dropped his arms and began walking out; "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some homework to finish."

Duck narrowed her eyes, and as he passed her, stuck out her tongue in protest. Then she quickly ran out ahead of him, so she didn't have to look at him anymore. And so he wouldn't shut her inside. She slowed once ahead, and waddled out the front door, still slightly open from before. What did Autor know about teaching anyway? Sure he helped Fakir when it was important, but he had tried to help after everything was fixed, too, and did horribly! Duck huffed as she left; Autor said he was going to try something different, but that didn't necessarily mean things would be better! She would have to watch him when he started working with Fakir again, if Fakir even agreed to it. Which he shouldn't. If Autor tried anything funny…! Duck didn't know what she would do, but… she would do something! Maybe… scatter his sheet music or something…?

Duck continued thinking about it as she left the campus, forgetting that she had been going to the boys' dorms, and started returning to the Charon's. Autor watched her leave as he closed the door behind him, and began heading towards the dorms, satisfied with his conclusions. For now.


	23. Chapter Sixteen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

_Princess Sylvia had her hood up again, although she really felt little need to conceal herself anymore. Aldrick pointed out that the crows could still pull something, though, so she complied. They had seen the horses of Siegfried__'s men connect with the trail behind them not long ago, meaning that the wall was safe again. Sylvia couldn't help but think that they were also leaving any chances she had of seeing the Prince again. She tried to bury such thoughts and remind herself of what good she had already done, forget the sharp twinge of sorrow. However, when she heard a horse ahead of them, she couldn't help but raise her head in hope._

_The rest of the expedition tensed, preparing for an attack. They continued walking, but in a tighter formation. Princess Sylvia couldn__'t make out the riders at first, but eventually she recognized at least one of them. "Kurt…" she muttered confusedly, then immediately called out, "It's Kurt. Sir Kurt!" The people did not seem to hear her. Aldrick still held his sword drawn. "Aldrick," Sylvia said, "There is no need to-"_

"_Princess, you should not be so easily fooled," Aldrick responded, "It could easily be a trick. Remember we are outside the wall."_

_Princess Sylvia__'s face fell, but she realized he was right. How could she have forgotten? The crows could take other forms, and as twilight approached their powers grew. They had been outside longer than expected, and the sun was beginning to fall. But to do an illusion of a full horse and riders, especially prolonged, would take more power than simply evening could bring, right? Could that mean that the Raven was closer…?_

_Now tense herself, Princess Sylvia watched the horse approach warily. Eventually, Aldrick motioned for their party to stop. The horse and riders slowed, and stopped near Aldrick. __"State your names and where you are from," Aldrick demanded, sword gripped in both hands._

_Marie looked surprised at his boldness, but Kurt simply responded; __"I am Sir Kurt, protector of Princess Sylvia, servant of King Marius Colombe." He then waited for Marie._

_She looked a bit confused, but continued; __"I am Marie… Aldrick, you know who we are!"_

"_And we are outside; you should know the protocol," Aldrick responded._

_Marie sighed; __"Yes; we're from Ironrod."_

"_And what of yourself?" Kurt challenged back, looking at Aldrick._

_Marie looked at Kurt with incredulity, but Aldrick responded readily._

"_I am Aldrick of Ironrod, under King Marius' rule."_

_Kurt nodded, and Aldrick relaxed, putting away his sword. The rest of the party followed suit, although a few kept their hands on their swords and eyes on the skies. Kurt bent his knee and dismounted first, helping Marie off after. She gratefully landed on the ground, leaning slightly on Kurt as she regained her balance. She soon stood on her own again, though, and sighed a little in relief. The horse sighed similarly. Kurt then handed the reins to Aldrick, saying, __"Do not let her leave," motioning with his head at Marie. Aldrick looked a little surprised as he took the reins, but nodded and looked at Marie. Marie looked down in tired embarrassment, but quickly roused her spirits and looked back at Aldrick, challenging him. He made no motion to respond._

_Leopold came near Marie, relief evident in his face. __"Marie," he started. She looked towards him; her face lost a little of its venom, but there was still enough to stop him from coming closer. "… Are you… alright?"_

"_I'm fine," she snapped, a little more forcefully than she intended._

_Leopold shrank a bit and nodded, __"O-ok…" He shifted his attention to Kurt, and walked a little further away. Marie instantly regretted her attitude, but if she called out to him now, Kurt would probably do something. She didn't know what, but she didn't want to draw attention again._

_Kurt walked towards the guards surrounding the Princess; she lowered her hood and moved towards him as he approached. The guards spread out a little, and Kurt__'s face briefly showed relief at seeing Sylvia's face. But he quickly mellowed it and knelt before her. "My Princess, please forgive me for my lack of attention towards you and your safety."_

_Sylvia__'s face fell; "Kurt… There is nothing to forgive; it was I who created the situation."_

"_Nevertheless, I have lapsed in my duty."_

"_Kurt, you know I hold nothing against you," Princess Sylvia said._

_Kurt hesitated, not rising, and continued, __"Then might I speak plainly, my Princess?"_

"_Of course; you always may with me," Sylvia responded._

_Kurt looked up at Sylvia; __"Then I will say that you have done a _very_ foolish thing, Princess.__"_

_The solemnity in his voice cut her, and the disapproval in his eyes only cut deeper. She hadn__'t seen that look in years. She automatically recoiled a little, then looked down and to the side, "I… I understand…"_

"… _I trust that you do, my Princess," Kurt said as he stood up, his voice softer._

_She nodded, unable to look at him, tears forming in her eyes._

"… _The Princess did a wonderful job encouraging the Prince's knights!" Leopold interjected. Everyone turned at his statement, and he continued, coming closer; "She helped hand out rations, and organize things, and even danced. Everyone was grateful to her."_

_Sylvia used the distraction to put her hood back up, trying to hide a few tears that slid down her face._

"_She asked to give assistance, and the knights seemed to appreciate her dance," Annette affirmed._

_Kurt looked at Aldrick, who nodded._

"_She was very graceful, Sir Kurt," someone in the crowd added._

_Kurt smiled a little at the quickness with which the people defended her; __"I would expect no less from Princess Sylvia." He turned to smile at her, but saw her face covered and understood. Saddened, but aware he could do nothing currently, he headed back towards Alderick._

_Annette was closest to the Princess, and wanted to comfort her, but was unsure what to say. She glanced at the others, and all shared her concern, but also lack of knowledge. She tried anyway, speaking softly; __"Princess…"_

_Princess Sylvia sniffed, interrupting her; __"I know… I am sorry for the trouble I've caused…"_

_Annette turned fully towards her, __"Princess, it hasn't been-" she sighed; "You have… made more amends than problems, Princess. Nobody left the encampment without a smile. That is hard to accomplish during a war."_

_The Princess tried to hold back more tears, and wiped away the few that escaped. __"I don't-" she paused, then sighed. She looked up at Annette with a smile, if still tear-stained; "Thank you, Annette."_

_Annette couldn__'t help but smile in return; "It is my pleasure, Princess." She bowed and moved back to her position._

_Leopold had managed to almost get past the guards before he was noticed. __"Leopold," Marq said, "you know you cannot just-"_

"_It's from Marie," Leopold blurted._

_Marq made a confused face; __"What?"_

"_It's… it's a spell," Leopold said, "From Marie."_

_Marq frowned a little, but let him pass. Annette saw, and rolled her eyes a little, but didn__'t interfere._

_Princess Sylvia was still gathering herself a bit when she noticed him. A waver lingered in her voice; __"Yes, Leopold?"_

"… _You need to know that you have done wonderful things on this trip, Princess," Leopold insisted, "despite what else may have happened. The knights appreciated your presence, I am sure of it."_

_Sylvia smiled warmly at him, gaining control of herself again; __"Thank you, Leopold."_

"_And…" he continued softer, avoiding her eyes, "you need this."_

_Leopold pushed his charm bag into her hand. Surprised, she reflexively took it, but upon recognizing it, immediately tried to return it. But he wouldn__'t open his hand again. "I know you put yours in the supplies for the Prince's knights," he said quietly._

_Astonished, she stopped trying to give it back. But then she began urging in just as soft a tone, __"I don't need-"_

"_I could easily point it out, Princess."_

"…_But, don't you-"_

"_Please, Princess," Leopold said calmly, looking at her, "Take it."_

_She started to shake her head, but he just bowed and began leaving. She quickly drew the bag under her cloak so no one would recognize it. __"Leopold," she said quickly, louder. He paused and turned. She looked at him worriedly, "… Thank you."_

_He smiled at her. __"You're welcome, Princess Tutu."_

_As he left and headed back towards Marie, Sylvia slowly fixed the charm bag to herself, as she had the first one. She had purposefully given her first one up, to help, but people still insisted she have that much more protection. She had thought she was being magnanimous by giving up what was given to her, but could she ever be as noble as those who continued to give even what little they retained__…?_

_Kurt finished explaining what had happened on the other side of the wall to Aldrick. Aldrick nodded in understanding. __"I suppose that makes sense, considering how it played out and our side as well…" He suddenly looked up in realization at Kurt and bowed; "I am truly sorry that we did not return as soon as we realized that the Princess was with us, Sir Kurt, but our supplies were very much needed, and we would all have had to return together, thereby negating our original purpose. Not only that, but then there was the second crow attack-"_

_Kurt held up a hand; __"I understand the choices you had to make. I cannot say I would have done the same, but my priorities are different than yours. I should have kept a better eye on the Princess in the first place, instead of letting the burden fall to you. I am grateful that you have protected her so well thus far and still carried out your duties."_

_Aldrick nodded again; __"Thank you, Sir Kurt…"_

"_Now I wish to return with the Princess quickly," Kurt continued, "but I believe it would be wise to let the horse rest a little. The Princess herself is light; she will ride. I will lead the horse for a time, and once she is recovered, I will ride with the Princess to the gate. I received a different password so that we could enter separately if needed."_

"_Understood, Sir Kurt," Aldrick responded._

"_Do not lose track of Marie," Kurt warned, "She is the one who aided the Princess'… departure. I will be waiting for her inside the wall."_

_Aldrick grimaced briefly; __"… I understand."_

_Kurt took the reins and started towards the Princess again, and on his way announced, __"Please be aware that Marie is currently under royal custody for her role in this situation. As long as everyone ensures she does not run away, there will be no problems to address."_

_Murmuring started, and Marie felt a fresh wave of embarrassment and guilt. While Kurt hadn__'t said anything outright, he may as well have, and surely people had listened in on his talk with Aldrick. A space formed around Marie. She hadn't intended anything malicious; surely they all understood that! Marie was sure that Princess Tutu would have shared her desire to be outside with the people once they discovered her. And they _must_ have understood when they saw the Princess speak with Prince Siegfried! He had been among the knights, after all! She fumed silently, struggling with which emotions to feel strongest. The thought that the Prince might not have been among the group didn__'t cross her enraged mind. As she glared at the ground, someone approached her. She saw the feet, and frantically looked up, fear and anger in her eyes. She saw Leopold, who again paused at her look, although less abruptly than before. Her face softened as relief flooded her; he looked worried. But she soon looked away again, scowling. She had seen him at the Princess' side. He now came beside her._

"_Are you sure you want to be seen with a convict?" she asked bitterly._

"_You're not a convict," Leopold contended._

"_Did Princess Tutu tell you that?"_

"… _No… but I'm sure she would agree," Leopold said, trying to be comforting; "She told everyone that she _wanted_ to be here, that it was her intention. I don__'t think you can be imprisoned for helping the Princess to her goal."_

_Marie looked at him, a bit reproachful._

Fakir was unsure if that was exactly the right way to describe her, but trying to fit in other words felt even worse. Marie was worried, anxious, and a bit critical currently. And many more emotions, as well. But fitting them into a single word, or even a few words… Maybe he could find a better way to phrase it later.

"… _The Princess won't let you be imprisoned," he continued gently, taking her hand._

_Marie wanted to drop it, to question him more, but she just let his fingers intertwine with hers. He held her hand, and her anger mostly gave way to the warmth he shared. So instead of snapping at him, she drew closer and held her tongue. He smiled and squeezed her hand briefly, before the group began to walk again. Everyone drew their hoods up once more, and they began to strive against the sun as it slipped closer to the horizon._


	24. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

Fakir fell onto his bed, beside a few pieces of paper and a book. He tiredly stared at the ceiling. Ballet could be quite tiring when he put everything into it. He had already rinsed off, but his body still wanted to rest. He fought the tiredness with thoughts of the responsibility to write, but he still didn't move. He knew what would happen next in the plot. Generally. Unfortunately, he was again at a loss for the specific details of _how_. But as the most recent block had showed him, putting it off with research didn't always help. Powering through had worked out, in a way. He hoped that this time, it would be more like his plans in his head, though. He wasn't sure if he could salvage a huge plot twist this far into the story. And he was also pressed for time, now that he had given that deadline to Autor.

Twitching a brief grimace, Fakir let his body indulge in the sensation of no movement for a few more moments. Then he sighed, and got up, retrieving his pen and ink.

_Princess Sylvia had wanted to say that she had plenty of energy to walk more, but she still felt guilty, so she offered little resistance to riding as Kurt led. She had felt fine when they left the knights, their smiles cheering her, but her spirits had fallen some when they passed the Prince__'s riders. Since reuniting with Kurt, while she felt more secure, she also felt increasingly depressed. What she had set out to do, originally, had not entirely been accomplished. She had not been able to send support, or give advice, or offer anything of her own to the knights, except her presence and her dancing. She remembered well the knight's comment that such things would not bring a victory. Not only that, but she did not even get a glimpse of Prince Siegfried except for his armor. How could she properly prove her support without at least showing him she was there? How could she return when she hadn't even seen his face to assure him of her kingdom's continued aid, to assure herself-_

_Sylvia stopped. There was that horrible selfishness again, creeping into even her best intentions. Maybe__… that was all her intentions ever were? Selfishness? She sighed. Perhaps it was better that she was returning without seeing him, then…_

Fakir reminded himself that she was supposed to feel remorse and guilt. He couldn't write her out of every little episode of pain. He couldn't help it if she took everything harder than it was intended. He had tried, but she always managed to find other ways to make things worse. She did this to herself. But that didn't make them easier to write, especially when she got so self-critical… He moved on.

_Marie and Leopold walked together in silence, Marie still wearing the Princess__' cloak. They remained a part of the group, but no one approached their space. They continued holding hands._

"… _Did Sir Kurt do anything to you?" Leopold eventually asked quietly._

_Surprised, but not displeased, Marie responded, __"Well, nothing too terribly violent…"_

"What_? What do you mean?__" Leopold asked worriedly._

_Marie smiled a little at his distress; __"He threatened me a little, and grabbed my arms…"_

_Leopold__'s grip increased a little too tightly, and she could tell he was trying to find words to say._

_Reassured, she softened; __"Relax. It wasn't that bad. He just scared me. The worst thing he actually _did_ was make me ride behind him while he galloped,__" she grimaced; "Remind me never to ask that of you."_

_His grip lessened a little. __"… Was that really the worst thing?"_

_Marie__'s face became solemn. "… Do you really _want_ me to think about my future imprisonment right now?__"_

_Leopold__'s grip tightened again. "The King wouldn't do that."_

_Marie scoffed, __"Oh, he would! I'm surprised that Sir Kurt was able to convince him to let me come out here at all!" She looked up at Leopold, "And would you mind not squeezing my hand so hard?"_

_Leopold immediately loosened his hold on her hand, but he didn__'t let go. "Sorry…"_

_Marie waited to see if he would continue, but when he didn__'t she relaxed again. She leaned against Leopold as they walked and slipped her hand from his, wrapping her arm around his instead. He adjusted accordingly._

"… _I asked the Princess about you."_

_Marie stiffened a bit._

"_I asked her if she knew what would happen to you," Leopold continued, "Once Sir Kurt discovered you."_

"… _And what did she say?"_

"_She said that she had faith in you. She didn't think that Sir Kurt would find out before we returned."_

_Marie humphed; __"Well, goes to show what _she_ knows.__"_

"_She also said that if he found out, Sir Kurt wouldn't hurt you. Was she right about that?"_

_Marie didn__'t respond for a while. Leopold waited. Marie continued to be silent. Eventually, Leopold asked again, "Was the Princess-"_

"_Yes," Marie cut him off._

"_What?"_

"_I said yes," Marie repeated rigidly._

"… _Are you sure?" Leopold asked worriedly, "Because-"_

"_Yes, she was right about that, Leopold!" Marie exclaimed, pulling away from him but not letting go, "I am perfectly fine! Are you happy now?"_

_Now Leopold was the one to stay silent for a while. Eventually, he ventured a sullen and confused, __"Yes…"_

_Marie frowned and sighed, leaning on him again; __"I'm sorry, Leopold…"_

"_It's ok…" Leopold replied, briefly leaning his head on her._

_Marie smiled again._

_Meanwhile, Kurt was rather focused on setting a quick pace. He had pulled them to the front of the party, and the temporary guards were the only ones in front of him. But he knew he had to stay with the group as well. As he walked, he noticed Princess Sylvia__'s expression. He frowned, and glanced around. Almost no one was within reliable earshot if he was quiet. He would have preferred to wait to talk until later, or at least until they were on the horse together, but from her look, he had better start now._

"_My Princess, dwelling on your problems will not help ease them."_

_Princess Sylvia looked to Kurt, coming out of her reverie; __"Hm? Oh, yes… I suppose not."_

"… _How do you suppose your father handles his problems?"_

_Sylvia thought for a moment; __"Well… he is well-informed, and he receives advice."_

"_Indeed," he affirmed, "He also uses forethought and deliberation. But when such luxuries are unavailable, as may happen during a war, he puts forth his best efforts and takes initiative to implement _something_. He does not wait around for the best information or situation to come to him, but acts with expediency on what he knows.__"_

_Sylvia nodded; __"That is what a good king does."_

"_That is what a good _ruler_ does,__" Kurt emphasized, "They do what they can at the soonest opportunity." He waited a moment, then continued, "You showed great initiative today, my Princess. You must learn to temper it with patience and wisdom, but you have done good things for your people. You have shown them that you will not hesitate to join righteous causes. Perhaps not in the best manner, but they have seen, and now know more of your capabilities."_

_She looked to the side._

"_I did not say they knew all of your talents," Kurt insisted, "but more of them than before. You do have a wide array of them."_

"… _Can you be sure of that?" Sylvia asked at length._

"_Yes;" Kurt's answer was immediate and unwavering._

_She was taken aback by his surety, but then smiled, __"Thank you, Kurt."_

"_Remember that, my Princess," Kurt continued, "You are a beacon of light to those around you. And in the future, please also remember your training. You may ask for advice from those around you."_

_Princess Sylvia nodded, somewhat comforted; __"I will."_


	25. Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

Fakir sighed. There was a lot of talking going on, but at least Princess Sylvia was feeling a bit better. He hated to let her stew unnecessarily for too long. It had never helped him, after all… Or Duck. But she never thought too long on much. Except a few things; but they had been understandable. Like the heart shards.

Reminded of Duck, he glanced out the window. It wasn't dark yet, but it soon would be. He looked back at his papers, thinking of what came next. He would need to take his lamp outside, if he decided to take it to Charon's. She would likely be asleep by this time, or close to it. And if things went according to plan, the next bit wouldn't be something she should casually happen to see. He also needed to be careful, for an unexpected problem here might actually have effects on this world. Not that nothing else in the story couldn't, but nothing had happened so far. If the story was even coming into being, anyway. Somewhere. Or, sometime.

He briefly thought of going to listen to the tree to prepare, but quickly decided against it. Autor had labeled it his 'crutch' once, complaining that Fakir used it too much. Which was not entirely true. Fakir had only listened to the tree so often because it was difficult to understand. He had to try and get some use from the overly-metaphorical statements that were repeated endlessly, after all. But nevertheless, Fakir did not want his writing to depend on the tree's often-confusing statements, so he now avoided going if he could. This time was no different. He knew what came next, and finally how. He got up, put on another layer of clothes, turned on the lamp, and sat down to write again.

_Sylvia idly looked at the empty trees they passed by, then back at the expedition as they followed Kurt. Aldrick was not far behind. She spotted Marie, a bubble of empty space around her save for one person. It was probably Leopold. They walked close together._

"_Kurt;" Sylvia started._

_He glanced at her._

"_Do you think-"_

"_Crows on the left!" Annette exclaimed, drawing her sword. All immediately followed suit, save Kurt, who rushed to join the Princess on the horse. Shortly after the warning, crows not only came, but began bombarding the group, cascading over the barren treetops. Kurt had just gotten behind the Princess when the birds hit, and Princess Sylvia cried out in alarm. Still standing in the stirrups, Kurt almost fell off with the impact adding to his momentum. The horse danced around. But Kurt leaned forward against the Princess, somewhat protecting her and also regaining his balance, and quickly drove the mare into a gallop._

_As he pulled ahead of the group, he instructed, __"Keep your head down, my Prin-" Before he could finish, the horse skidded in fear, almost throwing him on top of her. Some crows had dived at the horse's face, barely missing. Kurt tried to calm the mare, turning her head, but the crows followed, assaulting her face; she started bucking. Kurt immediately ordered, "Princess, jump!"_

_Frightened by the horse__'s bucking, Sylvia almost didn't react. But Kurt's authoritative voice made her move, and she soon pushed off of the horse, landing with deeply bent knees on the ground. She was not very far from the horse or the crows, and quickly backed away. A few crows followed her-_

Fakir paused. Sylvia had one of Marie's protective charms on her now. But… what did the charms actually _do_? A full protection spell would probably give the person a barrier bubble of sorts, since that was how the wall was fortified. But that was a spell; this was a temporary charm. And the expeditions were always on guard, ready with swords should the crows appear. That would be unnecessary if they had assurance of a bubble surrounding them. Even if they had simply been extra wary because of the Princess, she was specifically given a charm bag as well, as soon as they found out. And even before they knew if she had one they'd have been ready with swords, he was sure. So… what kind of protection was it, then?

Fakir put his pen down and immediately searched for a book in his piles. Finding it, he pulled it out and flipped through it. He found a few references of good-luck charms first. It couldn't be simply a good-luck charm, warding off the crows from finding them. Well, it might be, but then was it so essential that _everyone_ have one? Unless the effects were cumulative…? No, not even then. Another mentioned controlling or warding off evil spirits… Perhaps if the charm bag just warded off the crows, then once they noticed them there would still be reason to fear. But that was more something a magic user would address instead of leaving it to a charm, especially considering the number of crows. Well… maybe not. But they wouldn't put so much importance on who had a charm bag if that were the case. He continued searching. There were charms for added wisdom, good luck, victory aids, wealth… But not many descriptions of _how_. He switched books. This one mentioned an added measure of healing and strength; but then why would they call them 'protection' charms instead of 'strengthening' charms? Sighing, he left the book open on his lap and looked up at the ceiling.

What if… instead of a bubble of protection, it was more like a second skin? A light armor, that was invisible? That would give reasoning to why it was important that everyone have one. Armor helped protect, but you still felt the impacts. Plus, if it was only a light protection, there was the possibility it could break…

Setting the book aside, this idea sounded like the best option. He took up his pen again.

_A few crows followed her, and began clawing at her. She cried out and lifted her arms; they left no mark due to the protection charm, but she could feel them fighting to break through the magic. She began to cast a spell of her own._

_As the horse continued to buck and intermittently bolt away from the Princess, Kurt tried once more to gain control, keeping in the vicinity. But he could not keep the mare there long, nor calm her. He could not leave the Princess, either, and the crows were unrelenting. So he quickly swung himself over and tried to push off the horse. However, her wild movements made dismount difficult, and the mare__'s shoulder came up and hit his chest, winding him and smacking his jaw. Kurt awkwardly landed on his feet, but tumbled to the side as he tried to compensate for his sudden loss of strength. The mare continued bucking away, and her hind foot came down on one of Kurt's feet. He emitted a sharp, loud cry, but only for a second, for he did not have much air to use. The mare bolted off towards the gates. Some of the crows followed, but some fell to attacking Kurt. He didn't even notice, trying to instead focus on breathing again so he could get up and see to Princess Sylvia._

_Then, a bright light emitted from Sylvia. The shafts pierced the crows around her and they disintegrated. The light dimmed, and she saw Kurt__'s plight. "Kurt!" she instantly cried out. Annette suddenly appeared and ran over to him, slicing through the crows around him. Sylvia rushed over, worried as Kurt remained on the ground._

"_There are more crows around Princess," Annette said as Sylvia knelt beside him, keeping her sword at the ready; "I do not think we will be alone for long."_

_Sylvia gently touched Kurt__'s face, and he gasped, finally regaining his breath. "Princess!"_

"_I'm here, Kurt," Sylvia soothed worriedly, "I'm fine. What happened-"_

"_The crows…" he started, trying to look around and reach for his sword._

"_They're gone," Sylvia interrupted him, taking his hand, "Annette is here."_

_Kurt relaxed a bit, regulating his breathing again. __"… Good."_

_Sylvia glanced over him; __"What happened-" she stopped as she saw his foot. It was twisted at an odd angle. She breathed in sharply; "Did your foot do that when you landed?"_

_Controlling his breath more, Kurt answered, __"The horse… she hit my foot. I will survive, Princess. Annette;" She looked down; "take the Princess-"_

"_I'm not going anywhere, Kurt!" Sylvia declared, "Not until I help you!"_

"_My Princess-" Kurt tried to argue, but a wave of pain cut him off._

"_I know healing magic, Kurt, let me use it!"_

"…_The crows are focused on the rest of the group," Annette said to Kurt, "I can watch for both of you for until she is done." Glancing at his foot, she continued, "Did you have a charm bag?"_

_Kurt nodded as he regained some control of the pain, but not enough to talk._

"_The protection charm helped, but…" Sylvia said, trying to assess his foot, "I don't have everything for a full healing spell, but I can help the pain, and speed the healing somewhat."_

"_Fine," Kurt said gruffly, "just do it quickly. Before more crows notice."_

_Princess Sylvia nodded. As Annette kept an eye out, Princess Sylvia began working on Kurt__'s foot._

_Meanwhile, the crows continued to pelt the citizens. They fought back and destroyed all they could. What training they had received behind the wall certainly helped. Slowly, they made some progress against the birds__' numbers. Leopold had his sword out, and tried to remember Sir Kurt's instructions from before. He stayed near Marie, and she was able to take care of many crows with small pellets of magic. He helped fend off the birds, but hadn't managed to destroy any of them. As he fought, he occasionally would get scratched by their claws, and blood was never far behind. He stayed near Marie's back so she wouldn't notice, for she would certainly loose concentration if she realized he didn't have a charm bag. Everyone else was too busy getting rid of crows to pay attention to him, and he was holding his own so far. Then, a crow managed to get a grip on his shoulder and dug in. He cried out, and Marie immediately turned and shot through the creature. "Be careful, Leopold!" she said, turning back to other crows, "The charm only does so much!"_

"_Yeah…" he replied, trying to hold the sword steadily. The arm that had been attacked pained when he gripped too tightly, but he had to keep ready. As he blocked more attacks, the pain made him slower. Thankfully, the attacks seemed to lighten, and then suddenly the crows held off. Then they all began flying away, back over the trees. Leopold gave a sigh of relief._

"_There's another group!" someone shouted. Leopold saw some birds breaking from the main flock and begin flying further down the trail, after the Princess._

_Immediately alert again, he called out, __"Marie, we have to help!" He ran after the birds, his pain dulling. Marie followed, her hood falling back as she tried to keep up with Leopold._


	26. Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen  


Fakir spent about half hour looking through some books, and testing stances himself. If he was going to describe a fight, he was going to do it at least somewhat accurately. He almost wanted to go and get his sword, but he knew the actions well enough that he didn't really need it. So he finally went back to work.

_Princess Sylvia had almost finished with what she could do for Kurt. Annette tensed as she saw movement in the sky; __"Princess, there are more crows coming."_

_Kurt was calmer by this point, and instructed, __"Annette; take Princess Sylvia back to the group."_

_Annette nodded, but Sylvia began protesting; __"But I'm not done-"_

"_My Princess, you must stay safe!" Kurt interrupted, "Else I will have failed you in my duty a second time."_

_Sylvia__'s face fell in dismay; "You didn't-"_

"_I will be fine, my Princess," he said, "You have done enough for me. I can defend myself, but I will only slow you down right now. Go with Annette."_

"… _I will tell Marie to come and help you," Sylvia said regretfully, "But first, you need to get to a better spot." She began trying to lift Kurt on her own, and Annette quickly joined. Kurt resisted momentarily, but soon helped them get him onto his good foot. They all hobbled to the nearest tree, and let Kurt down again. He stayed standing, though. "Kurt, you need to rest-"_

"_I am not standing on it, my Princess," he replied with a smirk, "That is rest enough. Now go."_

_Unhappy, but hearing the crows, Sylvia gave him a quick hug before taking off, putting her hood up as she left. Annette followed behind, sword drawn. The Princess was faster than Annette expected, and she resisted the urge to order the Princess to slow down._

_Most of the party had followed in pursuit of the crows, and now the birds noticed their chase. The crows stopped and began attacking again. While fewer in number, the creatures were still just as tenacious as before. Leopold found more energy as he swung at the birds, almost forgetting his injury. He raised his arms and swung at a crow, managing to destroy it, but another crow was simply knocked to the side by his arms. Trying to regain height, it flew into his legs as he stepped forward. Leopold tripped and raised his arms again for counterbalance. He fell forward, towards his injured arm, and extended the arm to catch himself. As he hit the ground, the impact combined with his injury and a searing pain exploded in his shoulder. Crying out, he dropped his sword and rolled over onto his other side. The crow that had caused his fall was already up in the air, now fleeing with its comrades, but was soon taken out by another__'s sword. The miniature flock was disposed of. But Leopold couldn't notice for the pain._

"_Leopold?!" Marie had heard his cry, and searched for him. As the last of the crows disintegrated, she saw him on the ground. "Leopold!" She rushed to his side. She saw scrapes all over him; "Leopold, you're bleeding! Where's your charm?" As she reached to check his side near the ground, she bumped his arm and he cried out again. Instantly retracting, she looked at his arm. The shoulder looked a little strange. "What happened?"_

"_I fell…" Leopold said confusedly, "It wasn't-" He cut off, grimacing._

_Marie saw the blood on his shoulder, and immediately assumed a broken bone. __"Leopold, don't move!" She began taking out items from her pack, preparing a healing spell._

_Princess Sylvia and Annette arrived at the group, Aldrick meeting them at sword point; __"State your name," he demanded, powerful despite his tiredness._

"_Annette Clos of Ironrod," Annette responded immediately, getting her sword in front of the Princess._

"_Princess Sylvia Colombe," Princess Sylvia recited, automatically standing straighter as she did so, despite the sword in her face, "Daughter of King Marius Colombe, ruler of Ironrod."_

"_And you, sir?" Annette panted, not putting away her sword._

"_Aldrick Lubin of Ironrod," he replied, gratefully sheathing his sword. Annette nodded and did likewise, still breathing heavily. "We had hoped you would have gotten to the gates, Princess."_

"_The crows attacked our horse;" Princess Sylvia explained, "Where is Marie?"_

_Aldrick looked around briefly, and motioned; __"She is helping someone who fell. The charms help protect against outward injury, but other problems can arise."_

_Sylvia nodded; __"I know."_

"… _Of course."_

_Sylvia smiled at him kindly, then glanced at Marie and commented, __"… I will ask when she is done. Could some of the others please help Kurt?" she asked Aldrick, "His foot got injured from the horse and he can't walk on it."_

"_He insisted that the Princess return to the group;" Annette continued, finally regaining her breath, "I had gone after them noticing their horse's distress, and was able to help. Sir Kurt charged me with bringing her back."_

_Aldrick nodded, then turned and instructed a few others nearby to go for Sir Kurt._

"_Thank you," Princess Sylvia said to both Aldrick and those who left._

_Aldrick sighed and glared in the direction of the setting sun. __"If only we had been faster, we might have avoided an attack like that."_

_Sylvia thought of the extra time she had taken to dance for the knights. She looked down._

"_I should have known that with two attacks already, the Raven must think our kingdom is ready for the taking," Aldrick continued._

"_But the barrier still stands!" Princess Sylvia protested, "Why would he think that?"_

"_You are right, Princess," Aldrick responded tiredly, "But our victories are not exactly self-secured. We have had the aid of Prince Siegfried and his knights this day, but they cannot stay for much longer. Our forces are already weakened, as is the barrier. This could be the opportune time for the Raven to strike, if he gathers enough strength. Which is why we need to return as soon as possible;" He looked at the Princess; "While our King has never asked for assistance, I know that you and Marie could help support him in this time of need. He will be upset, surely, but necessity often puts our desires on hold."_

_Sylvia looked away again; __"Yes… it does."_

"_Once Marie is done with helping the injured, she will go with you and a few guards to the gate. Marie knows the second password, and if she is uncooperative, the others will give our password. We will have Kurt for the other password if needed. You will travel faster with fewer people."_

"_But I will not abandon-"_

"_Princess Sylvia," Aldrick charged, facing her directly, "you are responsible for the citizens of Ironrod. You must take every opportunity to exercise your powers to aid in their protection, even if that means leaving some of them behind! We have proven that we can defend ourselves against a crow attack, so you need not fear losing us. But even if you did, it is more important that you do your duty. Isn't that what you came out here to show? That you would help the kingdom by any means possible?"_

_Taken aback, Sylvia shrank under his gaze; __"… Yes…" she eventually replied. That _was_ her original purpose in coming out, wasn__'t it? Thoughts of Prince Siegfried surfaced, though, filling her with uncertainty. She fidgeted with her hands, avoiding his gaze._

_Annette was concerned that Aldrick was crossing a line, and coughed a little. Aldrick glanced at her, but stayed focused on the Princess. __"I mean no disrespect, Princess, but we all need to remember our duties. Especially during times such as these."_

_Princess Sylvia straightened and nodded, but only looked at him briefly. Aldrick turned and walked off._

_Marie was focused on helping Leopold. She__'d had to uncover his shoulder, which had bothered him quite a bit, and had seen that while his shoulder looked off, it was still in-tact. The blood was coming from puncture wounds further up his shoulder, and seemed unconnected except for adding more pain. She'd tentatively tried moving his arm, but he'd cried out each time. She soon came to see it was dislocation, and could be helped, but she had to move his arm to do so. She gently spread some herbs on him, ignoring his grimaces and grunts, and warned him that she would have to do worse to fix it. He had said he was feeling sick. She'd quickly recruited another person to help, and warned Leopold again about the pain. But that hadn't prepared _her_ for his cries as she moved his arm. She had to stop to collect herself again. As she went at it a second time, he passed out because of the pain. Once he was out, she quickly helped his shoulder back, his relaxation aiding the process. Afterwards, the recruited person left to ensure that no others needed help. Now Marie shakily used some healing magic to lessen the pain when he awoke, and speed the process of healing. She wiped tears away with her shoulder as she finished doing what she could. Why hadn__'t he told her he didn't have a charm bag? What had happened to it? Why did he run off like that before? She lowered her hands and began putting her things away, knocking a few things over in the process but picking them up again._

_Princess Sylvia approached Marie with Annette, Marq, and Bronwin. As they got closer, Sylvia recognized Leopold on the ground. Gasping quietly, she relaxed as she saw him breathing. She reached a hand to her charm bag. It was probably because he had given it to her that he had been injured. Sorrow and guilt flooded her. She took off the charm bag._

"… _Marie?"_

_As soon as she saw the Princess, Marie realized that Leopold had probably given his charm bag to her. Anger boiled within Marie. Princess Sylvia extended the charm bag as a token of peace, but the very sight of it only increased Marie__'s fury._

"… _Leopold insisted I take this earlier," Princess Sylvia said softly; "I didn't want to take it, but-"_

"_Then why did you?!" Marie accused._

_Princess Sylvia was surprised, and a bit hurt by her anger; __"I said I did not want to-"_

"_But you did anyway!" Marie interjected, standing up, "You took it anyway!"_

_The guards beside the Princess tensed._

_Marie continued, __"Just because people tell you things doesn't mean you have to follow them! Just because they offer you things, doesn't mean you have to take them!" Tears swelled in her eyes again._

"_Marie, be careful with your words!" Bronwin warned._

_Princess Sylvia withdrew her hand hesitantly; __"I… I did not mean-"_

"_Then what _did_ you mean?__" Marie questioned, ignoring the warning; "What is it you are trying to do?"_

"_Marie!" Bronwin repeated._

_Marie said no more words, but glared at the Princess, waiting._

_Princess Sylvia__'s mind swirled with Aldrick's words and her own feelings of uselessness. Fighting, she tried remembering what Kurt had mentioned earlier, her own words failing her; "I… I'm simply… a beacon of light-"_

"_Fine then!" Marie interrupted the stutters, glaring at the Princess, tears now falling down her face; "May you turn into light! If you truly care so much, then as soon as you confess your love, may you turn into a speck of light and _vanish_!__"_

"_Princess, watch out!" Marq cried as he drew his sword. From above, a crow suddenly dove towards the Princess, claws outstretched. Marq quickly sliced through the creature, but as it disintegrated, some blood spattered onto the Princess. Shocked by both the actions, and Marie's words, Princess Sylvia was speechless. Marie had stepped back in surprise, and as the feathers dissolved, almost choked on her tears as she tried breathing again._

"_Marie!" Annette barked, "Watch what you say! Not only does your anger attract the crows, but you are speaking to our Princess! She does not deserve-"_

_Marie turned and fled. Bronwin took off after her._

"_No… please-" Princess Sylvia plead quietly, having seen the pain and fear in Marie's face, the pain that _she_ had caused._

"_She needs to come with us, Princess," Annette reminded her, thinking that the Princess had forgotten._

_Princess Sylvia shook her head; __"No, it's not…"_

_As Marie continued to elude capture, Marq joined Bronwin in chase up the trail. Sylvia dropped the charm bag beside Leopold__'s unconscious form as she watched. "She didn't-" Words of the knights from before came to her unbidden, of how hard things were, of how little she could help. Her hands shook._

"_Princess?" Annette asked, noticing, "Are you alright?"_

_Sylvia took a step back. Kurt__'s reprimands came afresh to her mind, and Aldrick's many arguments as to why she shouldn't even be there came up. Marie's accusations, spoken or not, added to the condemnation. And at her feet lay Leopold's unconscious body, barely alive for all she knew, a charge that needed no words. "I didn't want… to hurt…"_

Fakir clenched his teeth; he had known that Sylvia would feel guilt and pain, but not _this_ much. … Fine, if that was how she was going to go through it, he would have to push through as well.

_Annette reached out a hand and steadied the Princess worriedly; __"Do you need to sit down, Princess?"_

_Sylvia looked up and saw that Marq and Bronwin had finally caught Marie, and were bringing her back. Marie looked desolate as they restrained and supported her, walking forcibly._

"… _Princess Tutu?" Annette hoped the term would remind the Princess of the people she was protecting._

_Unfortunately, it did. Sylvia__'s mind, already inundated with accusations, was then filled with the faces of her kingdom's people. The people _she_ was supposed to help protect. The people she was putting in danger by being outside the wall. Who she was endangering by insisting they stay out longer. Who she couldn__'t send aid of any kind to except a smile or two, which could do nothing in the face of the Raven. The people could seem to gain nothing from her except pain and annoyance!_

"That's false," Fakir exclaimed, "They care for you!"

"Liar!_" Sylvia yelled at the air, tears in her eyes; "I am useless!"_

Fakir stopped writing, almost throwing his pen down in frustration, pressure in his own eyes. She wasn't-! He hadn't wanted to say anything, but he wasn't trying to put her through _this_ much pain! How could she even-!

… But she was convinced now, apparently, for even his power to talk directly to her wasn't enough. He raised his arms over his head and sighed in exasperation, getting control of his own feelings again.

Unfortunately, the only thing to do now was to continue… He breathed deeply and dipped his pen in more ink.

_Before Annette could get a better grip on the Princess, Sylvia broke away and began running. Annette immediately started after her, but Sylvia had grief fueling her strides, and aimed for the woods._

"Princess_!__" Annette cried out, "Don't! It's dangerous-!"_

_But Sylvia was already weaving through the trees, and Annette struggled to keep her in sight. With the evening__'s dimming light, Annette could not keep the Princess' white hair straight from the glaring shadows through the trees' branches. Soon, the Princess disappeared completely. Annette frantically searched, but could find no traces. Even the echoes of her running offered little help. Annette knew she should return for a larger search group before darkness fell. Anxiously, she looked around one more time, took note of which way the sounds were headed, then rushed back to the group._


	27. Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.  


* * *

Chapter Twenty

Fakir was unsure whether he was happy he had finally gotten to the pronouncement of the curse or not. It was a major point that had to happen, but… he hadn't anticipated it being so full of angst and fear. He had been thinking it was a hateful pronouncement of a jilted lover, or even just simply jealousy because of the Princess' effect on people. But what had now happened with Marie… It made sense, but it was so much more complicated. And then there was Sylvia herself…

After classes, Fakir didn't see Duck at school and walked to the pond. She was dozing in the water. Relieved, but still thinking on his writing dilemma, he was reminded of her own self-sacrifice, how similar to Sylvia she was in many ways. Well, he _was_ basing the Princess off of Duck a little… More what she was like as Princess Tutu, of course. Sylvia wasn't nearly as short tempered as Duck. But both of them did seem to take things too personally… And be resistant to reassurance. Or, maybe it was just him. He thought about how he seemed unable to comfort either of them very well. Especially right now. Guilt weighed on his chest. He turned around and returned to walking.

He returned straight to his room. He would see Sylvia through to the end, despite the sadness he knew awaited them both. She was fated to turn into a speck of light. From the few lines about her in Drosselmeyer's story, she knew it as well. He still had time to allow her to console herself before the end. He hoped he could at least give her that bit of comfort.

_Princess Sylvia raced through the trees, desperate to get away. She had to prevent further problems for the people; she had to put distance between herself and them. Annette__'s cries had once echoed for her return, but they were now long gone. Sylvia breathed heavily, fighting against the tightening revulsion in her chest. She inwardly screamed at herself: she wasn't good enough, she never would be, even running away now wouldn't help anyone. The wind as she ran kept the tears from blurring her vision, but the dimming light wasn't helping. She pushed on, ignorant of where she was going. As long as she was far away, that was all that mattered._

_Eventually, her pace became too much to keep up. She slowed, gasping for air. Before she came to a stop, she tripped. She fell into an arabesque, but soon crumpled to the ground, although grace accompanied her fall even then. She sat in the brown cloak given to her, her skirt recklessly spread around her. She didn__'t notice the rips in the cloth that snagging branches had caused. Propped up on her arms, she tried to regain her breath in-between sobs. Tears now filled her vision, and she coughed with nearly every other breath. But the energy in her mind only escalated._

_She shouldn__'t have come out, she shouldn't have tried to help! No one was benefiting from her attempts, she was only hindering and frustrating those around her! Even her magic was only of partial use, for she was prevented on every side from helping those in need. But was she really doing it for the people? Was she just doing this for her own selfishness? Her own heart was difficult to understand, so she had tried to immerse it in service to the people. But was that the right choice? For even that had somehow gone terribly wrong._

Fakir wished Kurt was there to comfort her, to lift her up. Or that Leopold wasn't unconscious and far away, so that he could remind the Princess that she was cared for. He wished that Annette could have kept up with her, and at the very least been there to hold her or give a shoulder to cry on. But there was no one. Only he was witness to her utter despair.

He couldn't keep writing this. He had to do something. He would not allow anyone to feel this wretchedly for long. After thinking, Fakir realized that he couldn't give her anything directly, but he could speed the episode of anguish. In these circumstances, there was always a calming that came after crying out, if only because of exhaustion. Maybe he could let her fall asleep…

_As she wearied, her breathing quieted. She was able to calm herself. She realized her hands were stinging, and blinked away some tears to see them better. There were scratches and scuffs on her hands, a few of which were bleeding a little below her sleeves. She glared at the injuries, thinking of how much Leopold had to endure. Of Kurt. Of the knights. Abhorrence welled within her, and she yelled at her hands, __"It's not fair!" She hurled her hands at the ground, trying to hurt them more._

"What?! No! Stop!" Fakir immediately shouted as he finished the sentence.

_Sylvia froze, her breath catching in her throat. There was that voice again. She whipped her head around, searching. She saw nothing but trees and the sun glaring at the horizon._

"_Who's there?" she accused._

_Nothing answered her. She didn__'t even hear crows in the distance._

Fakir waited for her thoughts to move on.

_Sylvia continued waiting for any sign of response._

Fakir held his pen at the ready, but couldn't think of anything other than her waiting. He waited longer, but still nothing changed. Fakir sighed and tried guiding her thoughts elsewhere.

_As she waited, nothing around her changed save for the furthered loss of light. The sun fell below the horizon, its ambiance lighting behind her. She continued gazing into the trees. No birds rustled nearby, no footfalls of someone hiding behind trees, no hoof-beats in the distance. She began to wonder just how far she had run. Had she been able to put enough distance between herself and the expedition? They would surely come after her._

_But more importantly, what was the voice? It had called out to her before, always trying to convince her of something. It was penetrating, yet nobody else ever seemed to hear it__…_

Fakir paused. Storybooks weren't around in that era, right? Storytellers, sure, but writing… Was she becoming aware of him? But she was-

Well, they were _all_ technically characters, supposedly, even him. Especially since Drosselmeyer had confused everything. But things were set right again; there should be separation of the worlds. And Fakir wasn't writing a new story right now, he was just speculating on what could have happened before. And it _didn__'t_ involve Princess Sylvia becoming aware that she was being controlled. Because he wasn't controlling her, he was just… observing…?

He would move her on to other things. She would be better off not thinking too hard about this. As would he.

_Sylvia put aside such thoughts, for they were not important right now. She took a deep breath and pulled her cloak closer. She looked out again and wondered if she were any closer to Prince Siegfried__'s troops. She wondered if she might be able to risk seeing him now, since she had separated herself from the people. But… she had done that to protect them. If she went to Prince Siegfried, wouldn't that endanger him? Why would she…_

Fakir gave a frustrated sigh. This was pointless. He was moving her along, but she felt… empty. She wasn't concerned with Siegfried right now, or at least not in that way. He could feel her fighting to investigate. And she was still steering the story in that direction. He thought again about control, about doing so to help her.

But he didn't want to control her. He remembered how it felt when Drosselmeyer controlled his own writing to put Duck in the Lake of Despair. How Duck had been controlled in Drosselmeyer's world. He didn't want to be a part of that legacy.

… Maybe if he just didn't answer her, she would move on eventually. It could take a while, for she seemed determined to wait him out, but he knew how things would end. She would eventually have to move on her own anyway, if only to get warm. Surely she would drift onwards eventually.

_No. She wouldn__'t do that to the Prince. Or to anyone else. Why was she even thinking of that? She was so confused. But the voice always seemed to try to give her direction. Even now it had helped calm her, if only through shock. She looked around again, and saw a lake in the direction of the last rays of sunlight._

Fakir frowned. Since when did lakes appear out of nowhere? Perhaps it had been blocked from her sight by the glare of the setting sun. That made sense. Moving on.

"_Hello!" Sylvia called out towards the lake. Again, only silence answered. She looked around and still saw nothing new. As it was the only distinguishable landmark around, she decided to go towards the lake. Standing up took more effort than she anticipated, but Sylvia pushed herself and began walking wearily towards the water._

_As she dragged her feet forward, Sylvia wondered what she was doing. She had tried to be a good princess, first by following her father__'s wishes and learning about ruling, and then by encouraging the people inside the wall. Then she had tried to support those outside the wall. But those had just ended in multiple failures. If her duty was to be a princess, and one day a queen, then what was she to do? She had just proved herself incapable of being a fit ruler. Kurt said that she had potential, that she showed signs of being a good ruler. One day. But that didn't mean today. And today was what mattered. The Raven was at his height now, attacking mercilessly. If she could not rule or even help during these times, what good was she to the people?_

_But if she couldn__'t be a ruler, then… what was she?_

_She reached the edge of the still water, and saw herself in the little remaining light reflecting off the water. She looked disheveled, physically and emotionally. Her dress was still in one piece, but it had dirt smeared all over and a few rips. It was hard to tell much about her cloak, since it was already dark and coarse to begin with. Her hair, while still white, was tousled and looked dim in the shadows. She looked away._

_She was certainly not fit to be in the company of royalty, she thought with a bitter smile. Her father__… he would understand. He would regret it, surely, but he would know it was the best course of action. He was a wise ruler, after all. And Prince Siegfried… Her breath caught in her throat as she realized she would hardly deserve the privilege of ever seeing him again, let alone even be near him. But she quickly let her dread sink to resignation. It was what she deserved-_

"No!" Fakir snapped, "You're better than that!"

_Sylvia angrily whipped her head around, searching for the voice. __"How?!" she demanded, "How am I better than that?" The trees still held no answers. "How can I not deserve the removal of my title?" She glared at the lake. It too gave her nothing. "I am undeserving of it!"_

_The voice was silent. Her face crumpled in frustration._

"_You can't just ignore me!" she cried, somewhat desperately._

Fakir hadn't meant to get into this. Maybe he should have let her continue her desolate ramblings. But it was too late now. He wanted to go back, but he couldn't get her eyes out of his mind, her accusations. She was waiting on him. He had to find a way out of this.

_The last light of the sun finally was finally dissipating as the darkness began gathering more. Stars were visible in the sky, but they shared little light. The crescent moon was at the horizon, but had yet to rise above it fully. Sylvia still searched around her. She took some steps to go around the lake, but found her legs were slow to listen. Realizing she would never be able to catch up to someone hiding, she stopped and clenched her fists. Who in the world would torment her so much? It had to be a magical being, for it was her thoughts that it responded to. But the Raven wouldn__'t be able to affect her so deeply while being so far away, and he would have no reason to try to help her!_

"_Are you trying to help me or not?"_

_Nothing responded._

_She angrily grabbed a rock and threw it out into the lake. __"_Answer me!_" she screamed._

_Her voice echoed. The rock made a plunking sound as it hit the water. Ripples spread out as it sank below the surface. But no answer came._

_She wanted to cry, but although her throat constricted, she had already spent her tears. So she cried quietly as she sank to the ground, unaccompanied by tears._

Fakir hated this. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. Things had been going so well! He was so close to the end! And then _this_ had to happen! He felt tears welling within his own eyes. Not simply because of his own frustration, but he was reminded of Duck's own futile efforts with trying to deal with Drosselmeyer. Of her own sorrow and despair. Sylvia's was just as undeserved. Sylvia was just as caring and well-meaning. But he had to follow through with the story as it had already been established. Sylvia had to turn into a speck of light and disappear, becoming part of the Prince's heart.

He wanted to change it, but he couldn't. If she didn't turn into a speck of light, if she somehow escaped her fate, then… Her role in "The Prince and The Raven" would change. The entire _story_ would change. He didn't want to assume that his writing _would_ change things, but there was always the chance. And if it did here… The implications scared him. More than Sylvia's pleadings moved him. He had started the story with the plan that she would have the same ending as in the book. If Sylvia didn't vanish into a speck of light, then she wouldn't be part of the Prince's heart. He would be changing that ending. There would be no chance for Duck to change into Princess Tutu. And even on the off chance that Princess Tutu managed to slip out of the pages with the Prince, as Duck or not, she wouldn't be able to help Mytho regain his heart again. Nothing would be the same. No, he had to keep the ending.

He refused to be like Drosselmeyer, deliberately making the characters' lives miserable. But yet he couldn't just tell Sylvia that she had to turn into a speck of light to help the Prince regain his heart after he shattered it later. Could he…?

No. That would just make things more confusing. And make it less of a story. Even "The Prince and The Raven" had mentioned the Princess' strength. She could endure. She was clever too. She could get through this without his pointless explanations. And he could help guide her through it with words of time passing and thoughts of other things.


	28. Chapter Twenty-one

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-one

_Sylvia__'s crying eventually stopped. She realized that she would get no answer. Whatever spirit had decided to speak to her was done, and no longer seemed interested in her plight. Or had been frightened away by the Raven. She finally noticed that the quietness of the area was unnatural. Usually at least a few creatures survived outside, despite the Raven's stranglehold. But she had seen nothing since fleeing the expedition. It wouldn't surprise her if the Raven really was close, as she remembered Aldrick mentioning a probable attack._

_She looked in the direction she supposed her kingdom lay. It was too dark to see anything at the distance the wall was at, and the trees blocked her vision further. But it didn__'t matter. Just as she couldn't see it, they couldn't see her. They may be looking for her even now, but surely they would realize it was a foolish effort and concentrate on fortifying the wall. Kurt would protest. But he wouldn't be able to do much with his injury, at least regarding the search for her. She hoped that Aldrick would send as many people as he could back inside the wall. She hoped that Leopold was well enough to travel and get inside and safe. She hoped that Marie would be able to help him, and that Kurt wouldn't be too hard on her._

_She realized as she looked into the darkness that she should probably not return to Ironrod. They would expect her to carry on as a princess, a role she had proved incapable of handling. Sadness filled her heart that she would be unable to say goodbye to Kurt, and her father, but she had passed the point of being able to feel deeply anymore. She simply felt a twinge of remorse at the realization._

_She dully moved her gaze back to the lake. The ripples she had created no longer waved on the surface. The water lay still and unmoving. Like how she felt. She wanted to go to sleep, but she didn__'t want to wake up. She didn't want to face the possibility of being found and dragged back to Ironrod only to be useless again. But she couldn't bring herself to walk further, even if it were to the other side of the lake to evade the people. Unless, she just walked through…_

_Sylvia__'s eyes widened with comprehension. Slowly, she stood up and faced the lake._

Fakir's mouth clenched. She wasn't-

_Sylvia stepped forward, and began walking into the lake._

"No!" Fakir cried out.

"_It's too late, spirit," Sylvia said placidly as she continued walking, "or whatever you are." Her skirt floated on the water with her cloak as the water came to her knees._

"No, it's not!" Fakir protested, "You can't!"

"_Tell me, then," she responded evenly._

"You-" Fakir started, but stopped himself. If he told her how much the people did love her, and how much hope she gave them, he would feel even worse when she turned into a speck of light anyway. She would feel betrayed as well. But he couldn't just tell her that she had to survive simply to turn into a speck of light, that would be selfish and… unhelpful!

… Was he being selfish in not wanting to go back again? In not wanting to return to the time before he met Duck?

No. It wasn't just him. Everyone in Goldcrown was affected by the story. He owed it to them, as well, to keep this story on track.

"_Tell me why not, and I won't end it," Sylvia continued as she walked deeper, her voice wavering slightly; "But otherwise, there is no reason for me to live."_

"There are people who need your help," Fakir contended, "More people than you know about! People in other towns, kingdoms!"

_Sylvia smiled tiredly as the water came to her hips. __"Everyone will be better off without me. My help only causes problems."_

"No, it-" Fakir cut off and threw his pen to the side. It skidded on the desk and fell to the floor. He couldn't do this. He couldn't think fast enough, and she was only going further into the water. He stood up from his chair and stared down at the papers, breathing heavily. If he didn't get this right, she would kill herself. This wasn't the Lake of Despair, she couldn't breathe the waters. Even if it somehow was, she would quickly waste away beneath its waters. He was only able to help Duck out by going in after her. Rue had been saved by Mytho, Prince Siegfried. But Sylvia… nobody even knew she was out there. Nobody but him. But he couldn't change the ending! Even if she deserved it! But if he didn't do something, she would change it anyway!

Fakir walked away from the desk, pacing. What could he do? What should he do? If he told her the truth, she could possibly become even more unstable and drown herself anyway. If he deliberately made her come out of the water, he would no longer be writing with Sylvia, but with a shell. She would have already died inside. She was having a hard enough time, making her question her own control of herself wouldn't help things. And later it would be out of character for her to just dully confess her love to Prince Siegfried and vanish. No, no… No!

"Damn it!" Fakir clenched his fists, then slammed the door as he left. He needed time. He needed air.


	29. Roles

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Roles

Fakir wiped some sweat off in the dance studio, resting for a few moments. He had walked around the town for a little while, but the anxiety he felt needed more expression than that. His hands itched for a sword to swing, although not as much as they used to. He considered going back to Charon's smithy and practicing with a sword again, but he didn't want to have to explain things to Charon. Not that Charon would ask; but he would notice, and Fakir would feel pressured to tell him what the sudden vehemence was about. No, the ballet studio was a more private option, and he wouldn't have to explain himself if anyone else was around. Luckily, he entered the studio just as the last people were leaving. He had said nothing to them, put on his ballet shoes, and quickly warmed up.

Soon he had thrown himself into practicing the variation from a recent class: Benno, from Swan Lake. Benno was the closest friend of the Prince in Swan Lake. Fakir had set aside the irony when they started learning the dance, but now it brought itself up again in his mind, only adding to his frustration. He pirouetted hard, turning as much as possible. Benno tried to help the Prince, but the only thing he did of use was to point out the swans in the first act, leading to the Prince meeting Odette. Later at the ball in the third act, Benno performed a solo to distract the guests from the Prince's disinterest in the festivities. But that did nothing to help the Prince. While Fakir had managed to help the real Prince, eventually, his previous failures were not forgotten. He pushed past them, throwing the anger out with jumps, but there were other problems now.

Sylvia was being obstinate, demanding, impatient. How was he supposed to come up with a solution to her plight just like that? Especially when he hadn't ever intended on solving it! And if he tried changing anything now, then Princess Tutu would never become a heart shard. She might not even be able to help collect them, if she still managed to follow the Prince to this world. Then who would do it? If it were up to Fakir, then he knew that he'd never do it. Not in the state he'd been in before Mytho regained any emotions. Rue wouldn't help either; she had been just as happy with things before Tutu appeared as Fakir had been. That was a state he would not allow himself to return to. Or Mytho. Prince Siegfried. Not the one from the ballet. Because Fakir wasn't really Benno. Wait… what?

Fakir wobbled and didn't quite land right, falling to the side. He had to break his position quite a bit to catch himself. He sighed and tried to refocus. The energy he'd already spent helped to lower his frantic state of mind. He practiced some slower moves now, to regain his balance. He had decided to keep the speck-of-light ending, because there was no other way. If he didn't stick with the story, not only would he go back to his forcefully controlling ways, but Duck would never get to be a human. Although, in essence, that wouldn't be much different for her than right now. Except for her memories. Which she held onto determinedly. She seemed to cherish them. He believed that she cherished them. He hoped that she did.

Maybe… the problem was that Princess Sylvia hadn't had the opportunity to acknowledge her fate. He and Duck had consciously known what accepting fate would bring them, and decided to do it anyway. They had _then_ managed to defy some of the pronouncements. But Princess Tutu had still disappeared. The fight with the Raven still happened. Although, Duck had succeeded in bringing light through the darkness. That light had overpowered the darkness and helped so many people. The light of hope, of Princess Tutu. But Sylvia couldn't see that now. She had no perspective, no idea what lay ahead of her except darkness. There was no hope in her mind right now. If Fakir told her about what would yet be, could that help? Would she even believe him? No, he had already thought about that possibility before, how could he have forgotten. But what could he do?

Fakir flew into more pirouettes. The ending to this story had already existed before he started writing, why should he be having so many problems now?! Fakir's balance still wasn't right, and he started falling again. He tried to catch himself, but his balance was too far gone. He crashed to the ground. Fakir could have gotten right back up, he had done so many times before, but this time he just stayed there. He propped himself on his arms and glared at the ground. Not because of his fall, but for the writers' block that continued to throw him off balance.

As Fakir glowered, he thought about the other stories he had attempted. He hadn't finished many of them. When problems came up, he would attempt to work on them, but eventually move on to another project. He could just abandon this story now. Burn it. Destroy it. Forget he ever attempted it. But he had already told Autor that he could look at it. Fakir had gotten rid of too many other stories after telling Autor of their existence to live down another lecture about his stupidity:

'Honestly, was your writing truly that bad? Then why did you even write it in the first place?' 'How do you expect to get better when you won't try to improve what you have?' 'You could have at least let me fix what few pieces you had; now you'll have to start all over!' 'Do you even want to write? Your lack of perseverance says otherwise. Really, I never thought _that_ would be a problem for you.'

Fakir clenched his fist. He would finish this. He wouldn't let Sylvia or Autor pressure him into rash decisions. And he would finish it before Autor's deadline. He got up and took a breath, clearing his mind as much as possible. Then he went to work on another exercise.


	30. Possibilities

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Possibilities

Fakir stared out the window from his desk in class. The one ballet session he'd done had helped him calm down, but not change the situation. So he had tried the same thing over the weekend: walked around, researched a little, spent time with Duck. She'd walked around with him for a while, too. He'd even practiced ballet some more. But still, very few ideas had come up, and none of them helped. If he told Sylvia that she deserved better, and explained how she had improved the quality of life for everyone, even those she hadn't met, she would simply deny it. She didn't see the effects right now, so she wouldn't accept that it ever existed, past or future. If he pulled power or rank and told her to preserve her life simply because he said so, she wouldn't go for that, either. Maybe if he told her outrightly that she would one day save the Prince, that _might_ convince her, but… that was in the future. Again, she needed something right _now_ to convince her. Future prospects were all dark to her mind. How could he shed light on them?

His preoccupation continued into his dance classes. Unfortunately, his lack of focus showed. Mrs. Katerina had to point out a number of things to him. After the fourth correction to his position and the third time being reminded of the exercise they were working on, Fakir mentally blocked the issue. He gave his full attention to his current class, and waited to work more on the dilemma later. He felt his mind relax as it no longer devoted itself to such weighty items, and Mrs. Katerina got onto him much less frequently for the rest of class. Even during the Benno variation, he merely channeled his frustrations into his movements. After the class period was over, Mrs. Katerina asked the students who were planning on attending the auditions later in the week stay for another session. Fakir paused, and decided to stay.

By the time he was finally done and leaving, he was no longer thinking frantically of what he could write. He was mostly pleased with how ballet classes had gone, and how cathartic dancing felt. The problem with Sylvia seemed much less urgent. Her story was on paper, he had time to figure out what to do. There was no ending yet, after all, at least directly connected to the story, and he was more relaxed now. Spending so much time on one problem was in itself problematic; he should have remembered that.

Autor fell into step beside Fakir. The relaxed feeling started slipping away.

"Do you have the story?"

Fakir tensed; "… Not on me."

"Is it done?"

"… Not quite," Fakir said hesitantly.

Autor sighed; "Well, I suppose it is only the beginning of the week. But if you expect me to get through it before those auditions, I'll need it soon. I have classes too, you know."

"I thought you just wanted it in your possession before they happened."

"Well, do you _want_ to be in suspense thinking about the whole thing until after your tryouts are done?" Autor retorted, "I thought you wanted to concentrate on ballet too."

"I can isolate it from my dance classes just fine," Fakir responded.

"… I suppose that you can try to do that," Autor drew out; "It would be good practice for when you have to carry on with ballet life while your works are going through editors, anyway. If that's your plan for the future. But seeing as this is the first full work you've written in a while, it may be difficult for you to concentrate."

"I- …Fine," Fakir said, "When do you want it?"

Autor briefly looked surprised, then returned to confidence; "Tomorrow morning."

"What?" Fakir exclaimed.

"Well, if you _want_ to prolong the process, I suppose I could wait longer," Autor replied, "but I wouldn't recommend it. If you're simply struggling to put and end to the story, which given your experience you probably are, just sit down and do it. Putting off the inevitable won't change anything except for your certainty about the ending."

Fakir wanted to argue, but controlled himself. Autor was actually trying to be more helpful. And he had valid points. Again. And it was mainly Fakir's worry about the ending that was holding things up. He sighed; "… Alright."

Autor smiled; "Good. I will be at the library."

As Autor walked away, Fakir still had to fight the urge to yell at him, but it was easier to calm it this time. Fakir then turned towards the dorms again. He no longer had the luxury of time. He had to figure out how to push through this block tonight.

Fakir sat at his desk, papers in front of him. The more he reread, the more anxiety rose within him again. How could he make this work out? How could he help Sylvia and not give her false hope? He held his pen, but nowhere near the paper. After a few attempts to bring it closer, and retreating, he forced his hand over the paper again. He held it there, poised for action.

But what if he did it wrong? There wasn't enough time for him to attempt more than one or two arguments. After that, it would be too late. He could see Sylvia submerging herself under the waters and going out, like the last bit of sunlight had already done. In her fate, he saw what might have happened to Duck. But he knew that if he changed things too much, Duck might not even get the chance to be a girl.

His grip on his pen increased; Autor had said that just writing would be best. If he knew the ending, to just get to it. But still he couldn't seem to get past this point! He couldn't bring himself to write even a sentence! He couldn't risk it!

Dropping his pen, Fakir got up and walked around. Twining his hands above his head, he breathed and tried calming himself again. This shouldn't be so difficult. He just had to get to the ending. He just had to get her to confess her love. Did it have to be _to_ Prince Siegfried specifically for it to work? … It didn't matter, he was working towards the ending written for her in "The Prince and The Raven." The Princess showed up during a battle with the Raven, confessed her love, and disappeared. She was with the Prince at that point, so she had to be with him when she disappeared. Fakir might be able to venture simply having her disappear now, not exactly in the way in the book… But that was dangerous. He was trying to avoid that. But how?

He sat down on the floor against the wall and stared at his desk. Why had he agreed to finish it tonight? Not that putting it off would have made it easier… Or would it…?

He drummed his hands on his knees. What could he do now? Prince Siegfried could suddenly appear with the Raven, fighting. And what would that do? She might not even notice them, with how fatalistic she was being. Or, if she did notice, she might take Prince Siegfried's sudden appearance as she sank in the water as a sign that she was doing the right thing. Fakir rolled his eyes. Of course she would think that. So that was out.

What about the expedition? They were out searching for her. It was very unlikely that they'd find her at this moment, but she needed something uncannily lucky like that right now. But if they tried to stop her, she would resist. Even if they managed to drag her back onto the shore, she would fight back, possibly even using her magic. … Could she do that? Her magic was good, but was it like that? Well, she had held off the crows earlier; he supposed it was possible. And it had been established that she could also help with the barrier. So yes, it was possible, even likely. But if that didn't work, or rather, especially if it didn't, that would solidify her resolve to kill herself. She might even take more drastic measures against herself…

Fakir sighed and got up again. Perhaps more air- He stopped before he could grab the door. He had thought that last time. He had had the entire weekend to come up with a better alternative, and indulged his procrastination. Maybe that hadn't been entirely it, but here he was now, the night before handing the story over to Autor, and still he hadn't made progress on the ending. No. He lowered his hand. He would figure out how to end this.

Fakir sat on the floor, on the other side of the room from his papers. He didn't even have a pen near him. But he could still see her waiting. He could still hear Sylvia calling out for a miracle.

He had been trying to give her one. He had been trying to figure out a way to make everything work out for the best. But it wasn't working. Every time he took his pen in hand, he saw Sylvia refusing all his arguments, walking under the water, and drowning. Every time he tried thinking of ways to force her out of it, he saw worse scenarios. Taking someone's sword to take her own life. Throwing herself to the Raven's mercy with Siegfried nowhere in sight, letting the Raven feed on her pure heart. Or even just wasting away behind the wall, never trying to do anything again. Which also meant she would never confess her love, nor turn into a speck of light. Which was just as bad as the drowning.

Fakir's lamp was low, but he didn't want to get up to make it brighter. It was dark out, and shadows played all over the room. Like the shadows in Sylvia's heart were consuming her now. He couldn't help dissipate those fears for her, like he had done with Duck. Even if he could actually figure out how to go to Sylvia himself, it would be different. Duck had been afraid that she was helping nobody, like Sylvia, but Duck had known Fakir. When Fakir danced and helped her understand that stories had to end, because they did, she had trusted him. She saw his point. But there was no reason for Sylvia to trust him, or understand his viewpoint, especially if she found out that he could change everything. Or that he had the power to, at least. It would take far too long for him to explain to Sylvia about Duck's circumstances as an analogy, and then he would probably have to get into why Duck was helping the Prince, and that whole complicated scenario. And even if he managed to not get into those details, Sylvia would still have to go through with her confession. He would still have to tell her that she disappears in the end. And that did not seem safe at this point in the narrative.

He thought again about the final words about her in "The Prince and the Raven." It was fairly isolated. The Prince and the Raven were fighting alone during her confession. If he got her out of this immediate danger, it shouldn't be too difficult to get her to the right place. Maybe if he had just gotten her there earlier, he wouldn't be having these problems…

Suddenly, Fakir realized that that was a possible option. When the Princess had run off, there was a page break. He hadn't started in on her tragic thoughts or self-loathing until the next page. Quickly getting up, he went over to his papers and made sure of it. Yes; Sylvia ran off, and Annette tried to go after her, but turned back to get a larger group. He continued it on the next page. Relief flooded him as he realized he could just throw the other papers away and pretend that they hadn't happened! He hadn't written the ending, after all!

He grabbed onto the chair to support him as the liberation and tiredness caught up with him almost simultaneously. After a few moments, he took hold of the last few pages that were now deemed extraneous. He saw the suffering in them, the perplexities and frustrations. And he could forget about them now. Too tired to do much else, he gladly crumpled them up and threw them across the room. Smiling, he looked back at the rest of his papers. There was still sadness in them, but they could logically lead directly to her confession in Drosselmeyer's book. He needn't put any more effort into trying to save someone who he knew he couldn't. It slightly pained him to think of it that way, but he knew it was the truth. Sylvia had to turn into a speck of light. End of story. Her role would pass on to Duck. Everything would be fine. So with both satisfaction and regret, Fakir put out his lamp and fell into bed.


	31. Chapter Twenty Rewrite

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Rewrite

The next morning, Fakir woke up to the bells earlier than usual, which in comparison to his recent schedule, meant actually on time. Gathering his things together, he still felt a bit unsteady as he glanced at the papers, but then remembered his epiphany. Smiling, he collected the stack and put it in his book bag, along with some blank sheets. He had some time off between morning classes, he could write the last bit before handing it over to Autor.

Mrs. Katerina kept an eye on him, but found nothing to chide Fakir on except the usual turnout and challenging leg height. She even complimented him on his improved focus. After class, Fakir went to the courtyard to finish writing. He had time before his next class, and the courtyard wasn't as peopled as the inner classrooms and halls would be. He glanced over the last lines he'd decided to use: _Annette knew she should return for a larger search group before darkness fell. Anxiously, she looked around one more time, took note of which way the sounds were headed, then rushed back to the group._

Good. He had much more freedom from this point. He set up his inks and went to work.

_Sylvia ran through the trees, not caring where they took her, just as long as it was away from everyone. Everyone she kept hurting. Leopold. Marie. Aldrick. Kurt. Her father. Prince Siegfried__'s troops. Perhaps even Prince Siegfried himself._

_The thought caused her heart to skip a beat. Was it possible that she had somehow hurt the Prince? Albeit, she didn__'t know how it could have occurred, but it was possible. Wasn't it? She glanced at the setting sun, casting the world in shades of twilight. She turned slightly and went up parallel to the trail. She had watched Siegfried's horse go past the expedition, she knew which way he was headed. As long as he was still there when she got to him, she could tell if he had come to some loss because of her._

_As she ran, she thought of what could have happened. Maybe he had been injured in the crow attack, although from how he__'d been riding it was unlikely. Perhaps because of the hindrance she'd placed on his troops, they would not be leaving as quickly as they'd hoped. But that wasn't such a terrible thing, was it? Unless there were more attacks elsewhere? She didn't know; Ironrod had stopped receiving word regarding the other kingdoms as soon almost as soon as the barrier went up. The panic added to her speed, and she practically flew through the trees, like a shimmering bird darting through the forest._

_Eventually, she had to slow down, and then stop to catch her breath. The sun was rolling on the horizon, still sending forth glaring shafts to blind lookers-on. Once she stopped gasping, Sylvia made her way over towards where she thought the trail was. She had run for a while, surely she was at least within sight of the troops?_

_Thankfully, she did emerge from the trees onto the trail. And as luck would have it, she recognized the part of the trail as closer to the encampment, and began running up it once again. She prayed that at least someone from the troops was left so that she could find her way to the Prince. She needed to know if he was alright._

_The sun was finally under the horizon, its ambiance glowing dully in the sky as Sylvia finally caught sight of the troops. Enlivened, she quickened her pace slightly. However, they weren__'t moving. Concerned, she slowed as she got closer to the group. They saw her as well, for a small group came forward with their shields up and swords drawn. She came to a stop in front of them, breathing hard but not desperately. She remembered the rule to protect against illusions, and called out, "Who are you? And where are you from?"_

_A knight stepped out from the line, not removing his helmet. __"I am Sir Keith, and we are knights of Prince Siegfried who hail from Ambertown. Who are you, and where are your loyalties?"_

_She stood tall and announced herself, __"I am Princess Sylvia Colombe, daughter of King Marius Colombe, ruler of Ironrod." Murmuring started, but no break in ranks. "I am here to see Prince Siegfried."_

_Immediately, everyone tensed again. __"The Princess has no business with the Prince, nor in being outside of the gates!" Sir Keith accused. Princess Sylvia felt another stab of guilt, but dared not let it show. "You are an apparition from the Raven! Sent to distract us or even destroy us!" The knights behind him raised their swords._

_Princess Sylvia__'s face contorted in alarm as she saw the metal shining in the last glow of light, but she didn't move. "No!" she contended, "I am the Princess of Ironrod! I have come to offer aid to the Prince and his troops! I left Ironrod with a group of citizens! We gave rations to some of your number earlier!"_

_The knights held their position, and more murmuring occurred. Suddenly, a knight appeared from behind the group. __"Sir Keith!" he called out, "I can vouch for the Princess' identity."_

_Despite coming from the troop__'s main body, the spokesman turned his sword towards the knight; "Who are you?"_

"_I am Neilan of Copperfield," he replied quickly, "I was among the troop that received the Ironrod ration group. Princess Sylvia was indeed among them;" he glanced at the Princess; "And she has returned for some reason. Let us at least hear her."_

_Sir Keith__'s emotions were unreadable under his helmet, but he lowered his sword. "… Listening should pose no danger."_

_Eyes and helmets turned to Princess Sylvia._

"_I am here to see the Prince!" she repeated urgently, "I need to know how he fares. If he has lost anything, or-"_

"_Lost?" Sir Keith interrupted, "Lost what?"_

"_I… I don't know;" the Princess admitted, "I simply… I need to know if he is alright." Her posture pled her case with her voice._

_Sir Keith and Neilan glanced at each other. __"… I am afraid that we will need to be more sure if your identity before we can share such information, Princess," Sir Keith said, "such as where is the group you left Ironrod with?"_

_Sylvia glanced behind her; __"They are still on the path. I… could travel faster on my own, and needed to get here quickly."_

_Sir Keith remained unmoved._

"_Princess Sylvia," Neilan continued sympathetically, "can you think of anything that would assure us of your truth? There is no disrespect meant, but…"_

_Crows cawed in the distance. Everyone__'s heads turned for a few moments, waiting for further action. When none came, Princess Sylvia's head nodded somberly; "I understand. I only wish I knew what more I could give you. You already know my father's name, and that of my kingdom. That we have a magical barrier is no secret, either. Perhaps… My people know me as Princess Tutu," she supplied hopefully._

_Unfortunately, the name did not change their stance._

"_Princess Sylvia," Neilan offered, "you… performed something for the troop earlier. Before leaving. If you could show me the beginning again, I would feel confident in your identity." He looked to Sir Keith for affirmation._

_The knight eventually nodded. __"I was not there, but I heard of it. It must be enough," he glanced at the skies, "for I do not want this to drag on."_

_Princess Sylvia lit up at the idea. __"Of course," she agreed. Taking her position, she took a few breaths and performed a grande port de bras. Unsure how far he wanted her to go, she paused._

_After a second, Neilan quickly nodded; __"Yes, that is certainly Princess Sylvia. Graceful in all of her actions. And that is how she started her dance."_

_Sir Keith nodded, and motioned for the Princess to approach; __"Then come quickly Princess Sylvia, before crows come upon us," he urged. The knights behind him made way, and Neilan waited for her. Princess Sylvia then realized that the light was fading fast, for the troops behind them were mostly shadows. She came in, and the knights closed behind her. "Sir Neilan," Sir Keith said quieter, "take Princess Sylvia farther in for safety."_

"_Of course," Neilan nodded, and motioned for another soldier to come along and act as a guard. The soldier complied, and joined them as they walked in among the masses of troops._

_Murmurs had already spread before them, and the troops nodded respectfully as they passed, but many seemed too distracted to do much more. __"Sir Neilan," Princess Sylvia asked quietly, "are the troops always this tense at twilight?"_

"_No," he responded; "The Raven is nearby."_

_Shocked, Sylvia almost stopped walking; __"What? Here?" She looked around briefly, but all she could see were people and trees in the darkness. The few stars that were beginning to illuminate the night were still weak. "Why is he here? Is he going to attack Ironrod?"_

"_There is fear that he might," Neilan continued._

_Even more anxious now, Sylvia implored, __"Please, take me to Prince Siegfried. I need to know what he needs to best help-"_

"_He isn't-" Neilan paused, then rephrased; "I can't do that, Princess Sylvia. I'm sorry."_

"_Why can't- What isn't he?" the Princess returned, "Is he even nearby? Where could he be where such a vast majority of his knights wouldn't follow?"_

"_Nowhere!" Neilan immediately argued, "We would gladly follow him if we could, but-!" Neilan silenced himself and walked faster._

"_Sir Neilan," Princess Sylvia protested, not letting him escape, "you cannot leave it there." Neilan didn't reply. "Sir Neilan!" Nothing. She looked to the guard with them, but his helmet was still on. She could tell nothing of his inclinations. "Sir Neilan," she repeated, "what evil could the Raven possibly put forth to prevent the troops of Prince Siegfried from following him?"_

_Sir Neilan stopped, and Princess Sylvia ran into him. Sir Neilan steadied her, and immediately bowed his head in apology; __"Do forgive me, Your Highness!"_

"_Just answer me, Sir Neilan!" Princess Sylvia responded, "Are the people of Ironrod in danger while Prince Siegfried's troops are still within range?"_

"_They are always-" Neilan started._

"_You understand me!" Sylvia interrupted, "Right now! Because of whatever is happening right now!"_

"… _In a way," Neilan responded._

_Princess Sylvia frowned; __"Please explain."_

_Neilan was still hesitant._

_Princess Sylvia hardened; __"Whether easier or not, I order you to tell me of the situation."_

_Neilan panicked momentarily, but then breathed out a sigh; __"… The Raven took hostages. Not even of our troops, but from somewhere along his journey. He wanted a private negotiation with the Prince, and the hostages are his leverage. We told the Prince to never give in to such trickery, for it is obviously a trap, but…"_

_Sylvia__'s face fell; "Prince Siegfried would never let an innocent suffer if he could do something about it," she murmured._

_Neilan nodded; __"Prince Siegfried decided to meet on the Raven's terms, on the Raven's word that he would not attack Ironrod during the negotiations. The Prince then ordered all of us to stay here until he returned with the hostages. So we are stuck here, waiting to help our Prince battle the Raven, but forced to hold back. None but the Prince would trust the Raven, so a portion of our troops were sent to help fortify Ironrod's defenses as well, but the majority of our strength waits to attack the Raven with the Prince."_

"_Then why do you not go with the Prince?" Sylvia accused, "If the hostages are truly already forfeit, then what will their existence accomplish once the Raven sees the Prince alone?"_

_Neilan looked at the Princess; __"Are you suggesting that we ignore the hostages? The Raven's threats?"_

"_Of course not!" Sylvia responded, "But surely there is another way-"_

"_Do you not think we have thought of that? Princess?" Neilan interrupted, then apologized, "Forgive me, Your Highness."_

"_Then what _have_ you all done?__" Sylvia continued, "To fix this?"_

"_We sent a secret band out to follow the Prince and ensure his safety," Neilan reported, "and there is the support sent towards your kingdom. But we can only move so much without attracting attention."_

"… _How long has the Prince been gone?" Princess Sylvia asked._

_Neilan glanced nervously at the sky; __"A few hours now."_

"_What?" Sylvia exclaimed, "And you still haven't sent more after him?!"_

_A few of the surrounding knights turned and looked at them, and others purposefully turned away. Neilan shushed her, __"Quiet, please, Your Highness! There could be crows anywhere." Motioning her closer, he continued quietly, "Of course we have. If Prince Siegfried has actually been able to get negotiations of a sort going with the Raven, which if anyone can it is the Prince, then he is allowing valuable time for different troops to assess the Raven's strength and position. If it has come to fighting, we should be hearing back from a scout from the second group, and we will rush to the Prince's aid. But until that time, we must be patient!"_

_Still agitated, Sylvia fretted and paced; __"But… it could be too late by then! The Raven has the hostages, and the Prince-" Sylvia stopped, then turned and started leaving._

_The guard with them blocked her way; __"Your Highness," he insisted, "you need to stay where it's safer."_

"_But…" Sylvia protested, "I can't just… just stand here while the Prince is… is out there," Sylvia rambled, "risking his life for everyone, and putting everything he can-"_

"_Princess Sylvia," Neilan interjected, but to no avail._

"_-and all while I, I am stuck being useless again, even though I have at least some magic that could help, I'm sure, somehow, or-"_

"_Princess!" Neilan interrupted, finally getting her to pause; "Even if you could go out there, what do you expect to do?"_

_Taken aback, Sylvia rattled off, __"I have magic! I can do protection spells!"_

"_He has plenty of charms to assist him."_

"_Yes, but… but I can renew them! And… distract crows! And…" she tried thinking of what else she could possibly do. There had to be more!_

"_Princess," Neilan continued with concern, "you mean well. The Prince would understand that. But the battlefield is no place for a Princess. Surely you can see that you would only add to his worries if you were out there?"_

_Sylvia__'s frantic fire subdued immediately. "… Yes; of course…" she replied listlessly._

"_Not that he wouldn't appreciate your efforts," Neilan tried to recover, seeing her instant despondency, "And we all are aware of the risks you are taking yourself to come out here to show your support. Honestly, Princess, I am impressed with your bravery. But there is a line between bravery and rashness. You would fare better to stay on the right side of the line. Your Highness."_

"_Thank you… Sir Neilan," Sylvia responded, not changing her eyes much; she then gave a brief smile to Neilan and said, "I am actually a bit tired…" Then she sat down where she was._

_Neilan fretted momentarily; __"Erm… Your Highness, we should keep moving… Do you… want to sit on something? Or find a place-"_

"_This is fine," she intoned, "I'm just… going to rest a bit." Neilan still looked nervous, so she smiled at him again, a bit more genuinely, although with more effort. Neilan calmed a little, and turned to keep an eye on the skies. Or at least pretend to. The other guard did similarly, though still facing the Princess. They had to keep an eye on her, but she didn't seem like she would be going anywhere anytime soon._

Fakir sighed, putting his pen down to shake his hand out a bit. He hadn't anticipated that there was _that_ much more needing to be said… Glancing at the clock, he was taken aback by how much time had passed. There wasn't a lot of time before his next class. And Autor was still waiting. Quickly, he picked the pen back up to finish things up.


	32. Finishing Chapter Twenty

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Finishing Chapter Twenty

Fakir held the pen ready to write, but he couldn't think of a next step. Sylvia was closer to the Prince's location, but… he had just written her into the midst of troops of men and women who would try to keep her safe. They would not be amenable to letting her go anywhere alone, much less run off. Fakir frowned severely at the paper. Not this again. The point was less intense than the last he'd left off on, but it was still a block.

No. Not again. He was _so close_. Princess Sylvia was magical, right? Princess Tutu had certainly managed to work some magic with plants … That could work. Tutu's and Sylvia's powers had to be at least somewhat similar.

_Princess Sylvia sat on the ground for long minutes. She eventually laid her head down on her legs as if she were stretching, and just laid there quietly. Neilan looked to the other guard with them in confusion and some worry, but he just shrugged, unsure what they could do. So they let her stay there, face buried in her skirt. Nothing changed but the darkness of the sky, which only seemed to deepen. The stars visible offered little light. No words came from a scout._

_Then, the Princess gracefully lifted her arms above her and rose up to her feet, lowering her arms outward as she stood. As soon as she did so, green vines burst from the ground and formed a tangled bubble around her._

"_Princess!" both Neilan and the other guard exclaimed, reaching futilely for her. The vines were too thick to bend or reach past._

_Princess Sylvia looked to the side, and with a calm flick of her wrist, more vines formed a tunnel through the knights. Shock was evident on all faces that were without helmets._

"_Princess Sylvia, no!" Neilan yelled, then ordered the surrounding troops, "Destroy this barrier!" He took out his own sword and started hacking at the greenery, which was more resilient than he expected. Others began the same._

_Sylvia heard their attacks and began running. She couldn__'t afford to stop now. She felt sorry for Sir Neilan as she dashed down the pathway; he was only trying to do his duty. The rest of the troops were just like him. But she had to help the Prince, and she would never be able to do that while hidden away and forbidden from action._

_Swords tried valiantly to break through the vines, which now seemed more like branches, and the rest of the troops were catching on. Although she could hear the swords, she did not see any break through. She hoped that the plants were strong enough to allow her safe passage. Finally, she neared the end, just as she heard crumbling and shouting far behind her. Panic fueling her even more now, she burst forth into the open night. She saw no persons immediately around her, and looked to the sky. She was beside the forest, and had almost lost sight of the sky, but she quickly gauged where the blackest portion lay. Sure that must be where the Raven was, she lost no time in running off once more._

Fakir put down his pen and immediately started gathering his other papers as he let this bit dry. He didn't have any more time - he had to take what he had to Autor and get to his next class. The next part was the ending, and it would just be a repeat of what was already in _The Prince and The Raven_, anyway. If he could avoid writing that out, it would sit just fine with him. Mostly. Yes, it would, he insisted. The ending was already written elsewhere, he didn't need to rewrite it himself. Grabbing the latest papers, he quickly made his way to the library.

Autor was waiting.

"It's about time you showed up," he complained, "What took you so long?"

"I told you, I have classes in the morning," Fakir responded as he took out his papers.

Autor appraised the stack. "That's quite a bit of writing."

"Yes."

Autor noticed Fakir briefly check the last paper for bleeding ink. "Writing until the last minute?"

Fakir pursed his lips briefly, but gave a small sigh; "… Yes."

"Good;" Autor smirked, "That means you actually put thought into this."

Fakir held the papers close with both hands. "… I have."

Autor raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Well? Are you going to tell me about it or just let me read it?"

Fakir didn't know he had a choice. He opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. He looked back down at the papers and tried to think of a summary that wouldn't sound… stupid. _This is what Princess Tutu might have been like before the story started._ But not really before, more during. But he wasn't trying to write her like Drosselmeyer would have, exactly. And he didn't want to give Autor any ideas the he was basing her on Duck. Or that he was trying to write Duck back. Because he wasn't. Not yet, not with this story. But how else to explain-

Autor sighed audibly, rolling his eyes. "Just give it here," he said with exasperation, extending a hand.

Fakir looked at the hand, then glanced at his papers again before he released one of his hands from the stack and tentatively extended the papers.

Autor snatched them up and immediately began scanning the first page. "You shouldn't start your story with such blatant terminology, you know," Autor said without looking up, "It throws your readers off if they don't share your background."

Fakir stiffened; "Are you going to give me a running commentary, or are you going to read it?" he asked.

Autor looked up at Fakir, distracted; "Yes, alright, fine;" he made a shooing motion; "then don't just stand there. I will make comments, and if you don't want to hear them then leave. I would suggest staying to listen, for I'm only trying to help you, but if you don't want to improve…"

"I have class," Fakir responded, feeling more relief from the statement than he expected.

Autor sighed; "Well, I plan on making notes anyway. I'll question you about the biggest ones when I'm done." His eyes returned to the paper and he promptly ignored Fakir.

Fakir hesitated; part of him wanted to stay and make sure Autor didn't destroy his work with markings, or misunderstand everything. Part of him just wanted to be done with it and leave, tired of all the grief the story had given him. He wasn't lying about his class, though, so Fakir turned and forced himself to walk away. He would know once Autor was done. Until then, he wouldn't have to worry so much anymore. He could focus on the upcoming tryouts more. Hopefully.


	33. Off

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Off

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Fakir. He knew he should feel relieved that the story was done. That it was being read and gone over by someone other than him. Well, that did unnerve him a little. But that was usually the point of writing, right? For others to read it? Of course, that other person was currently Autor, but as aggravating as he was, he did make valid points. Fakir didn't have much improved hopes that his story would be less covered with notes than his other pieces had been, though. Perhaps that was the reason why Fakir felt so out of it; anticipation of all the problems Autor would point out.

But that didn't quite cover everything. He was feeling apprehensive about Autor's comments, but he also felt… something else. Like he hadn't done what he wanted to. No, that was obvious, he'd made peace with the fact that he couldn't control everything long ago while he was writing the story. He didn't like it, but the characters weren't _entirely_ under his control, nor did he want them to be. No, that wasn't it… It was more like he hadn't done what he _should_ have. But what could that have been? It wasn't like he had a preplanned script that he was trying to conform to. He only had an ending to reach, and he only planned out little pieces along the way when the thought struck him. Those points all had been reached, and even added on to. Of course, he hadn't written the actual ending, but… as uncomfortable as he currently felt, thinking about actually writing the ending made him even more uncomfortable. Besides, it was already written down. Just because he hadn't done it didn't make it less of an ending.

So… what else was he missing? Perhaps it was because he had been so rushed with the last parts. The sudden use of vine magic by the Princess at the end did seem a bit… abrupt, in hindsight. But it was the only way to get her out of there quickly. And it wasn't like the Princess had few magic skills; it had been suggested that she should help the King uphold their shield. She just hadn't used her magic much until then.

Before he realized it, Fakir was standing in front his locker. He blinked, confused as he opened his locker. There wasn't much inside, but had he just been putting things in, or taking them out? He remembered dancing recently, but had that been an earlier class…? He glanced to the side to see if he needed to put on his shoes, but everyone else was taking them off. He evaluated his muscles, and body told him he'd been dancing as well; his inner confusion just wasn't making the message very clear. Frowning, he scanned his locker. A few of the other boys looked at him, concerned as Fakir just stared at his open locker. After some moments, one was about to speak when Fakir sighed and closed the door, finally turning. Everyone else quickly looked back to their own things, pretending not to have noticed. Fakir simply left the studio and headed to the pond with Duck.

"I finished a story today. I think," Fakir said vacantly as Duck sat beside him under a tree. Maybe saying it aloud would make it feel more real.

Duck immediately brightened; "Quack?" she questioned eagerly. Fakir didn't appear to have heard her, and continued staring out at the water. She got up and flapped her wings a little, repeating, "Quack? Quack? Quack quaack quack. Qua-quack…" He looked at her questioningly, but didn't really seem focused as she continued babbling. She thought he looked like he was lost. She paused; maybe he was just tired and had trouble following her. She made a writing movement, then pointed at him questioningly. "Quack?"

"… Yeah, I've been writing;" Fakir repeated, confused; "I just said I finished it."

"Quack!" Duck said, making an x with her wings. She then pointed at his books and looked at him.

She wanted to know if he had the story with him. Fakir hesitated briefly. "… I'm letting Autor see it right now," Fakir stated.

"QUACK?!" Duck immediately squawked. She started ranting, flapping frantically; "Quack quack! Quaaack quack _quack_ qua-quack! Quack quack qua-quaack? Quack quack! Quack-"

Fakir raised his hands defenselessly; "He convinced me to finish it, and we made a deal that he could see it first." He hadn't thought she would get so upset at Autor's involvement. If that's what she was squawking about, anyway; it was hard to tell. He knew she didn't like Autor, but this was quite a reaction.

Fakir's words did nothing to dissuade Duck's fury. "Quack quack! Quaaack! Quack! Qua-qua-quack, quack quack, quack, quack, qua-" she continued, throwing her wings out in different directions. She'd point here, then there, then flap around, and point there again…

Fakir sighed, closing his eyes. "Idiot. I still can't understand you. Especially when you're like this."

Duck finally paused, then looked sternly at Fakir, putting her wings on her hips. He didn't need any other signs to understand her disapproval, and he found himself feeling a bit guilty. He quickly defended himself again.

"I can't do anything about it now. I'll get it back before auditions, which is only two days away."

"… Quack," Duck huffed, then turned so her back faced him and sat down decisively.

Fakir rolled his eyes. What was she even upset about? "Look… It's just a story-" he cut himself off, even as Duck whipped around to stare at him hard. He looked away. "I mean…" He sighed. "It is a story. I'm not sure how good it is, or even if it makes any sense. I'm still learning how to do this. But… I can let you look at some of it-"

A vision of Princess Sylvia crying on the ground flashed across his mind, cutting him off. It wasn't the happiest of stories. He didn't want Duck to think he was purposefully writing tragedies. Or that he was fixating on Princess Tutu. It had been an experiment. Maybe he shouldn't let her see it.

He looked at Duck. Her gaze had turned from glaring to hopeful and excited. He wanted to say no. He wanted to hide his latest work from her. But he had already said it. It was too late to combat her childlike enthusiasm. And she would never let him forget it if he retracted his statement now. He sighed again.

"But only pieces of it. And only the parts I show you. I can't show you all of it because… it's not complete enough. I have to work on it more, and I'll probably have a ton of edits to do, and I may just put it away and never go back to it. You could only ever get the small pieces I show you."

Great. Now he was the one babbling. But her look didn't diminish. She even smiled at him and nodded in understanding. "Quack!" she said happily, then came and nestled beside his legs. "Quack quack," she said gently, still smiling.

Fakir's look softened, and he remembered how she looked as a human with that expression. Duck always had a way with being sincere. He enjoyed that aspect of her. Then he realized he was staring at her, and averted his gaze as he felt a slight flush grow on his cheeks. He closed his eyes and leaned against the tree, pretending to be resting. He hoped she couldn't see the color of his face. _Why_ did she have to be so cute?


	34. Commentary

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Commentary

The next day, Fakir felt a little better. He distracted himself every time he caught himself thinking about the story, and practiced more for the auditions. He had to share practice time, as all of them were being used for students vying for their ideal roles, but the extra bodies simply made him focus on his positioning more. Eventually, he was able to block story thoughts from his mind. The following day was easier, as Fakir focused on sections of choreography he needed to execute better, and on his balance. The day went quickly, and soon he was walking down the courtyard's hallway, heading towards the exit. He was alone in the walkway, but then a figure appeared, stalking towards him across the floor. It was Autor.

"Clever;" Autor said acidly as he neared, "Quite clever. Spend all that time writing and writing, showing actual effort, and then handing over an _unfinished draft_."

They stopped in front of each other. Autor was trying to maintain nonchalance, but a glower was not even trying to hide underneath.

"Oh I'm sure that what you gave me at first was all you had written at the time, the fresh ink gave that away. But I'm also sure that you didn't just leave it there. You continued writing afterwards. You have more to give me."

Fakir was unsure how to react.

"You could have at least _told_ me that it wasn't finished yet," Autor continued; "I would have complained, to be sure, but some warning would have been appreciated. Now where is it?"

"Where is… what?" Fakir responded, still comprehending the attack.

"The rest of the story!" Autor charged, arms crossed, "The _ending_!"

Autor had noticed that the story wasn't finished, and he wasn't happy about it. No, more than that; he was _angry_ about it. That meant he wanted to know more. Which meant he actually cared about the story. Other story fragments Fakir had shared with Autor had gotten a beating with red ink, and a disappointed sigh. Whether Autor hated this one or not, he actually _cared_ about what happened. Fakir was shocked.

Autor's glower matured; "You just wanted to see how invested in the story I was, didn't you?"

"No," Fakir recovered, "No, I didn't. But I didn't write any more."

It was Autor's turn to be shocked; "… What?"

"That's it," Fakir explained, "I gave you the last of what I've written for that story."

"But… That's not an ending," Autor started, "It's hardly even a proper chapter break. That can't be everything."

"It is," Fakir insisted, "It leads directly to the entrance of Princess Tutu in 'The Prince and The Raven.'"

Autor's brows furrowed briefly, and he muttered, "I was wondering how that- No, that doesn't cut it," he continued at normal tone, "If that's really the case, then you still can't end it there. It's a horrible lead that doesn't give any clues about where to go next."

Fakir frowned, "You know the rest of it; you've read the book."

"That's not-" Autor made some strained faces, unable to put words to his frustration. Then he sighed and pushed up his glasses; "Just… come with me. It doesn't work like that."

Fakir tensed, and didn't follow as Autor turned and strode back to the doors. After reaching them, Autor paused and looked back at Fakir expectantly. Fakir didn't like how Autor was talking, but still, Autor had a possibility of liking this story. And Fakir wanted feedback, after all. So Fakir stepped forward and followed Autor.

Fakir finished re-reading the last chapter of his story. He looked at Autor's waiting expression. "I told you I was rushed on this last part," Fakir said, "But it plausibly leads to her entrance in 'The Prince and The Raven.'"

"_Plausibly_, sure," Autor said, "But how am I supposed to know that as a reader? Am I to magically assume that she gets to the Raven without any other problems? That she doesn't get caught by the knights? That she doesn't get attacked by crows on her way? That she can even _find_ the Prince without help?"

"You know how it goes'" Fakir argued, defensive; "Princess Tutu shows up just long enough to turn into a speck of light. Her love for the Prince spills out while she's giving herself up to the Raven, and she vanishes."

"But what if I didn't know?" Autor retorted, "What if I'd never read 'The Prince and The Raven?' I'd have no better idea what happened next than if you'd just cut it off after she ran away from the expedition group!"

"What do you want?" Fakir asked, trying control his irritation, "I'm not used to writing endings!"

"You should at least _have_ an ending!" Autor continued, "Don't just let the cliffhanger sit there unnecessarily, especially when you know the rest of it! If you had put it together a bit nicer, maybe put in some allusions or something, I could have understood and corrected it at least. But this is more than just bad form; it is negligence which you are above!"

"Fine!" Fakir exclaimed, grabbing a nearby pen, "I'll fix it now!" Hastily putting the pen to paper, Fakir narrated as he wrote; "_The Princess soon found her way to where the Raven and the Prince were meeting, and saw them fighting. Wanting to help the Prince, she gave herself over to the Raven__'s clutches. Her feelings for Prince Siegfried overflowed her lips at the last second, and because of the curse, she turned into a speck of light, thus depriving the foul creature of her pure heart_."

Almost tearing a hole through the paper with the last period, Fakir deftly set the pen to the side and looked expectantly at Autor.

"… Why would giving herself to the Raven help the Prince?" Autor eventually asked.

"I don't know!" Fakir snapped, "The other book never gave a reason, so why should I?"

Autor was silent, and made no more comment on the ending.

"Is there anything else?" Fakir asked sardonically.

Autor glared back; "If you honestly want my help, then yes, there is. But if you're just going to mess around with my advice like a musician who doesn't care what notes they're looking at, then there is no need for me to share it with you."

Fakir then realized that, as irritating as Autor was, he himself was currently being worse. His writing was being criticized, sure, and he wasn't used to this level of exposure. With Duck it was one thing, and even with her he was touchy about sharing what he wrote. But he was reverting to the defensive and closed persona from before he'd met Duck, before he'd known she became Princess Tutu. And that was something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Fakir sighed, calming himself. "… I do want to hear your opinions, Autor; but that doesn't mean I will act on all of them."

Autor's expression changed somewhat. It didn't become much less critical, but there wasn't hostility infused in its very essence anymore. Autor gestured at the stack of papers. "Well, first of all, what about Marie? You build up to her imprisonment, that Kurt might help lessen the sentence, but with this kind of an ending, she's never returned to. I suppose that's just something you'll have to work on later," he started, "To give you an overview, though, it's far too predictable. There are enough fairytale aspects to see exactly where it's going, but there's enough realism to think you might get something different. The fact that you don't change anything is frankly disappointing." He grabbed a paper that had some things written on it, referencing as he continued; "Not only that, but your scene changes become so abrupt. Near the beginning it's fine enough, but as you get more characters involved the back and forth makes it hard to keep track of who did what where. Princess Sylvia, or Tutu, or whatever you want to call her, is too overly-dramatic. In a fairytale, that would be fine, but she drags on and on about her desperate situation when it isn't really that hard to come up with a solution. Or she could at least get over herself more quickly. I don't think I've ever seen someone as pathetically self-depreciating as her. Speaking of her, is there music when she dances? Because she does that every now and then, but I really don't think they had time to grab a musician before taking provisions out to the knights. If not, how can she dance without music and still be graceful? It's one thing for another dancer to see grace simply in movement, but when performing for an army, I think they'd be harder to impress." Autor glanced at the back of the paper; "There are also some random bits of dialog in there that I can't seem to attribute to any particular person. Is there magic mind-reading involved or something? Why can both the Princess and Marie hear it, but seemingly no one else? And then there's Leopold. He's an interesting side character, but he's not consistent enough. One moment he can hardly speak a word to the Princess, the next he's giving her advice in a calm and collected manner. I can see that change happening over time, but you make it happen far too suddenly. It just breaks the flow of the story that much more."

Fakir stared at Autor. Interestingly, he didn't feel as angry as he'd expected. There was some resentment, of course, but not nearly as much as he'd felt with his other stories when Autor critiqued them. Perhaps it was because he was finally starting to see what Autor was talking about. He himself had considered a few of the points made, but set them aside and forgotten about them. "… I see."

"There are other things, of course, of smaller significance," Autor continued, "But these were my largest concerns."

Fakir nodded, not changing his expression.

Autor pushed up his glasses. "But overall, I think you didn't do too bad of a job. Especially considering the subject matter. You were taking a rather big risk with this piece, you know. You could have upset this entire _world_ if you had done something wrong."

Fakir pursed his lips; "It's a good thing I didn't, then."

"Yes. Well, I'm not sure if it's your writing skills or lack of them that's protected this story, so I'll keep my eyes open regarding that," Autor said, "But nothing seems to have been affected. Now if you want my remarks within the text, I'll be able to give them to you to tomorrow. I refrained from doing too much the first reading, and I've not yet finished my second scanning of it all. Then you can work on your rewrite."

"_What_?"

"I've told you before, Fakir, the first draft is far from the final copy," Autor responded, already knowing Fakir's reason for protest; "I thought you had at least gotten _that_ into your head."

"… No, I know, but…" Fakir wasn't sure why he was so taken aback at the idea of going through all of it again. It wasn't like he would be changing the story itself; he wouldn't take Autor's extreme demands, and he definitely knew that rewriting was a part of the process. But yet…

"But what?" Autor prompted.

"… Nothing;" Fakir eventually replied, "I understand. I'll be in tryouts tomorrow afternoon. I'll stop by the library once I'm done to pick it up."

The response obviously wasn't quite what Autor had expected, but he didn't argue; "Alright then. I'll have it ready for you."

Fakir nodded, then got up and left.

Autor watched him leave, not entirely happy with how the meeting had gone, but at least some things had been accomplished. And Fakir was starting to listen again. Autor smirked. Maybe being a mentor figure wouldn't be so bad.


	35. Observation

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Observation

Fakir still didn't know how to feel after Autor's analysis. He felt indignant, yet relieved, and resistant, and yet still wanted to _try_ listening to some of Autor's points… Of course, it wasn't a complete run-through, he would have that after the auditions. But this was enough to do something for his state of mind. Just what, he was still determining…

As he took Duck back to the smithy, she noticed that he looked tired. She brought it up, offering to walk back herself, but he smirked and shook his head, insisting he was fine. By the time he returned to his dorm room, though, he actually felt exhausted. Barely taking the time to change, he fell asleep on top of his sheets.

The next day Fakir was back to his routine of being on-time. It had only lapsed a little while he was writing, surely, but this now gave him a renewed sense of normalcy. Which felt a bit strange in itself, since he had been writing for about the past month. Not being on the edge to be writing or inspired to do so left Fakir feeling… calmer. Or at least feeling that things around him were less hectic and hurried. He couldn't help but think of it as a calm before the storm, but he labeled it as his normal cynicism and left it at that.

In-between classes, he even managed to notice a few more groups than usual whispering about something. He figured that there must be another upcoming production or something he was unaware of. Other than the ballet department, he didn't exactly keep up with what happened at the school. Even with that, he had fallen behind in news. But even now, he still didn't care to find out what more was happening, and went on with his day.

He only had time to see Duck briefly around lunch, for he wanted to get all his schoolwork out of the way early. Tryouts were starting early in the afternoon, before all classes finished, and after that he wanted some time to look at Autor's written comments. Without getting upset at them. All of them. Mostly. She wished him luck as he returned to the school day.

Soon, auditions were happening. Fakir stretched with the other ballet students. He wasn't aiming for a particular role, since he had been focusing on other things, so he was simply auditioning with numerous groups for male roles as they came up. It wasn't too far into the tryout session, and some of the higher female roles were being shown. Fakir made note of the techniques, and the variety of skill levels trying out. He found himself imagining what Duck might do if she were trying out. She couldn't aim much higher than the main body of dancers, the corps, of course, and even then she would be lucky to be an understudy, but maybe over time that might change…? He saw the dancers leap across the room and remembered the skill she had shown as Tutu. At least some of that had to be her, if only her desire.

Thoughts of Tutu brought back words from his story, images of Sylvia, crying on the ground, walking into the water. Immediately Fakir focused hard on his toes and put more fervor into his stretching. _Why_ did that stupid scene keep coming back to him?! He had even decided to throw it out and it still plagued him! If anything he ought to be bothered by the fact that the ending was so sparse. Autor was right when he said that Marie was forgotten about at the end, although that was somewhat unintended. He hadn't been planning on having more characters than he needed at the conclusion, after all.

Pursing his lips, Fakir pushed the thoughts from his mind. He was focusing on ballet right now. The story would wait until later. He turned to do more stretching, looking in the direction of the piano player. He wondered if that was their usual player-

Fakir froze.

Sitting at the piano bench, playing right in time, was a tall penguin with glasses. He looked happy enough, and nobody else seemed to notice that their player _wasn__'t human_. Even Fakir had missed it up until that moment. How long had he been there? Had he been like that the entire day? Longer? Fakir quickly tried to remember if he'd seen any animals walking around in uniforms. Nothing came to him. _What was happening?_

Fakir immediately got up. "I have to go," he muttered before dashing out of the room. He wasn't sure if any of the others had heard him, but it didn't matter. He barely even grabbed his street shirt before running off to find Autor.

* * *

Fakir had told Duck when the tryouts for the ballet were, so she was on her way to watch everyone dance. Even if she couldn't attend classes, she could watch everything. Suddenly, she heard something that made her stop in her tracks.

"… back soon. I can't wait to see the school's true Prince again!"

Whipping around, Duck saw two girls walking together, giggling. Prince…? They couldn't be talking about… No, of course not! He had gone back to the story. But… was that really it? Duck followed them quietly.

Duck had gained a reputation as being something like the Academy's unofficial pet. She was around the school often enough that she sometimes faded into the background, but the girls noticed who was behind them. They shushed each other and got quiet. Duck walked slower, looking around and pretending not to be following them. Eventually, the girls paused and looked around before one of the girls knelt down to Duck. "I know that you're interested, little duck," the girl said with a smile, "but this is a secret! Even you can't know it yet!" Giggling, she joined her friend and they bounced off together. Duck frowned as she watched them. What kind of secret? Why would it involve a Prince? She saw them go into the library and close the door behind them. Undeterred, Duck followed them. Luckily, someone left as she got there and let the door close behind them. Duck snuck in before the door closed.

Duck looked for the girls who had just entered, but she didn't see either of them. Hiding beside a bookshelf, she scanned the area. Then, she saw the girl who had told her it was a secret leave an aisle alone, walking with some books to a table. She looked really happy, but also like she was trying to hide it. The girl sat down, and Duck dashed over to the table. The girl didn't seem to notice, and Duck hoped she would continue talking to herself about the secret. But all Duck heard was the turning of pages. It seemed the girl was done talking for now. But what about the other? Duck looked to the aisle where this girl had come from, and snuck over to investigate.

There was a small break in the aisle with another table, but the only one there was Autor. He had a bunch of papers, and although she could guess what he was looking at, Duck wasn't there for him. She had to find the other girl! So she walked past into the next aisle.

Unknown to Duck, Autor noticed her. Quietly, he finished making a note on a page and got up. He followed her into the aisle, and found her against the bookshelf near the end of the aisle. She looked like she was eavesdropping. He came up behind her quietly, and overheard some girls talking at the nearby table.

"… and she said that in her dream, he seemed so familiar! So she tried to remember where she might have seen him, but gave up after a while. Then, when she heard about the ballet tryouts today, she says she remembered a student who used to come here! He was really really good at ballet, but then he just stopped coming for some reason. Like he disappeared;" her voice got softer; "And then, she says she got this feeling that he would be coming _back_!"

Autor frowned. They couldn't be talking about Mytho; everyone who wasn't directly involved forgot all about the Prince. Even if some people had lingering memories, there would be nothing to prompt this foreboding.

"Woah!" another girl's voice said. Autor rolled his eyes; he hadn't thought Duck was into listening to gossip.

The first girl giggled; "Do you think it's true?"

Autor was about to leave when he heard the other girl reply, "Well, that's the weird thing."

Autor paused.

"I had a dream too," she continued, "but about this beautiful girl with really dark hair. She was an amazing ballet dancer. I got the same feeling that I had seen her before; and that I would be seeing her again!"

Autor froze. That was _definitely_ a description of Rue! What was going on?

Autor turned and hurried back to the story, reading the last paragraphs again. There was nothing there about changing a world beyond, or nullifying anything that had happened! Certainly it wasn't in the earlier portions; he had been keeping track for weeks now for any changes. The only thing that was different now was… that there was an ending. Fakir had written the ending to it only the previous day. Autor grabbed the papers and made sure they were all together, then dashed out of the library.

Meanwhile, Duck had stayed listening.

"And another thing that's weird," the girl who must have been dreaming about Rue said, "You're not the first person to tell me something like this. I mean, it's pretty secret, but there have been some weird dreams happening lately!"

"I didn't realize that…" the other girl said, "Do you think it means anything?"

"I don't know… but I don't think it could be a coincidence."

Duck didn't think so either. She had heard enough; people were talking about having dreams about Mytho and Rue! Possibly even coming back! But why…? She had to tell Fakir. Duck turned on her webbed feet and raced out of the library to find him.


	36. Discussion

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Discussion

Fakir raced through the empty halls. Most classes were still in session, so no one was around to question his hurry. Not that he would have stopped to tell them. He turned onto the columned walkway and saw Autor running down the hall towards him. They met midway and stopped, both exclaiming simultaneously.

"Things are changing-!"

"Something's happening-!"

They cut off as they realized they were saying similar things.

"Why didn't you warn me?" Fakir accused.

"Nothing had changed until just now!" Autor argued, "Or at least until today. There were some girls in the library talking about having dreams that Rue would return, and Mytho as well. They didn't give names, but the descriptions were clear enough."

"Well the piano player for the ballet class has just turned back into a giant penguin, too!" Fakir informed Autor.

Autor's eyes widened; "This is moving quicker than I thought," he mused.

"What you mean 'you thought'? You mean you thought about this happening?"

"Well obviously, considering you _have_ written changes into reality before, some of them quite drastic. How much of that was really you is still questionable, but the fact remains that it is a possibility."

"_Obviously_;" Fakir retorted, then tried to focus on the problem again; "But the question is how to fix it? Just what is 'it'?"

Just then Duck flapped to their feet, having finally run the distance from the library. She was squawking and pointing backwards, trying to communicate with Fakir. "Quaaack! Quack! Quack quaaaaaack quack qua-quack, quack quack, quack, qua-"

"Yes, I just told him about that," Autor told her impatiently. At Fakir's quizzical look, Autor explained, "I was following her when I overheard the girls talking. She's probably trying to tell you about that."

"Quaaack?!" Duck responded indignantly.

"It's not my fault if you didn't notice that I was there," Autor retorted.

"Back to the point, then;" Fakir said urgently, "What exactly has changed that caused all of this to change too?"

"It must be the ending," Autor said quickly, "It's the only thing you've added on since yesterday."

"Well then tear it up!" Fakir said immediately, "Burn it if we have to!"

"It's too late for that!" Autor argued; "The only reason that worked with the other stories was because they hadn't changed anything yet, if they had the power to change anything at all. You remember the Ghost Knight, don't you? That story was missing its ending, yet it still came to life. It probably happened before the ending was torn out, and lingered after the fact."

"Well… A heart shard was involved then!" Fakir tried to argue, "And who knows if the legend from before was even true? This town was warped under Drosselmeyer's hand."

"That's exactly my point," Autor insisted, "Given this town's past, it's difficult to tell what was actually the past and what wasn't. If you were changing something else, I might be able to spot it easier, but things seem to be returning back to the way they were before. If I noticed something weird, I might just think that I'm remembering what it used to be like, or maybe not even notice it at all because I am also returning to accepting what used to be considered 'normal'."

Duck looked confused, but Fakir quickly moved on; "Fine, then what do you suggest?"

Autor sighed. "The only thing to do is to go back through your story, look for where things could have changed our world, or rather undone changes, and rewrite them."

"We don't have time for that!" Fakir argued.

"Do we have time to think of something else?" Autor argued back; "You're the author, you should remember everything you wrote down. Even if you don't have the exact quotes, you should recall what events took place. Were there certain times or… locations when you felt that things could go badly? For Goldcrown?"

"… Well, a few; but I avoided changing things!"

"Well obviously you didn't!" Autor retorted, extending the papers he had with him; "Now find those places and analyze them! Point them out to me, and I can help if I haven't already left notes."

Fakir took the pages and started thumbing through them. He stopped, though; "I need a desk. And pen."

He strode off to look for an empty classroom, and Autor and Duck followed.

* * *

Duck was settled on a chair back at a room in the library, anxiously watching Fakir as he poured over the papers in front of him. Autor paced behind him, finally shushed from his rambling phase after Fakir had stopped him with his arm and asked him to 'let him think'. His tone had been severe, but it wasn't yelling, and he wouldn't let go of Autor until he became quiet.

After nearly an hour of shuffled papers, glances here and there, explanations of notes, and some abandoned arguments, Fakir didn't feel any closer to a conclusion. He put his pen down and leaned back in his chair, one hand on his face.

"Did you find it?" Autor asked. Duck looked on hopefully.

"No," Fakir muttered from under his hand.

"Then get back at it!" Autor said, "Or give me some of the papers to look at."

Duck glared at Autor; "Quack! Quack quack!"

"Just give me some papers you think might be problematic, with this problem at least," Autor said, ignoring Duck, "We need to-"

"Quiet, both of you," Fakir ordered. He moved to hand from his face and looked at the papers. He was trying to analyze them, but he did not look very hopeful.

After hesitating for a few moments, Autor finally sat down. "… Why don't you tell me some of the points you're thinking about," he suggested.

Fakir looked up at Autor, and was about to start when he stopped himself. He paused, then glanced self-consciously at Duck.

Autor looked at her too; "What?" Then he saw the look in Fakir's eyes. "… You still haven't talked to her about this?" He rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air briefly. "Well it's a little late for a synopsis now! Don't mind her, just tell me what parts are of concern right now."

"Quack!" Duck argued, standing up in her chair, "Qua-qua quack quaaack! Quack, qua-"

"Duck," Fakir cut in sharply, closing his eyes, "… Autor is right. There isn't time to explain." He looked down at the papers, avoiding looking at her. "I'd rather you not hear the fragments out of context. Could you please keep out of hearing range?"

Both Duck and Autor were shocked. Duck couldn't get Fakir to look at her, and while the request hurt, she quickly covered it with anger and huffed. She pointedly got up and waddled off.

Fakir watched her go out of the corner of his eye, guilt weighing his gaze down, but he couldn't introduce her to the story like this. He wanted to thank her for cooperating, apologize to her, but she was already around the corner. Fakir sighed.

"Well?" Autor prodded, back to business, "Happy now?"

Fakir pursed his lips and looked back at the papers.

"Now tell me what points have been causing problems."

Fakir hesitated, but knew he couldn't waste any more time; "The earliest big plot point involved Sylvia getting outside. If she had actually told Kurt her plans to leave, he would never have let her and that would be the end of it. But that would also destroy the possibility of the ending that happens in the book, which needs to happen because that's how it all happened the first time. If at the end, Sylvia went straight to the Prince and the Raven instead of sidetracking to the troops just to find out the Prince isn't there, she could get there sooner. But that wouldn't change what's already happened. It would get to the ending required, but it wouldn't change anything else I've written, either. Nothing in the parts with the Prince's knights was significant enough to cause all of this."

"What about earlier?" Autor suggested, "When the Princess danced for the knights? There was a bit of negotiation to get that done. What if it hadn't worked out?"

"If she didn't dance for the knights they brought the supplies to, that may have gotten them back to the town before the crows attacked," Fakir replied, "But that would bring back the problem of not getting to the Prince at all. Likewise, if Kurt had captured Marie earlier and gotten outside quicker, it'd be the same problem. He'd get Sylvia back to town before the crow attack, and any chance of seeing the Prince would be gone for quite a while."

Duck had lingered at the edge of a bookshelf, out of sight. She understood Fakir's worries, somewhat, but she didn't believe that justified him in keeping all the information to himself. She became concerned as she heard the mention of crows and the Prince, though. Was Fakir writing about Mytho in the story, as Prince Siegfried? Was Rue the princess mentioned? Why were there crows still attacking people? And why was the Raven still involved? He was gone now!

"Unless…" Fakir mused, "that just doesn't happen in this story…"

"What do you mean?" Autor asked.

"What if this isn't the story of her disappearing?" Fakir continued, sounding more hopeful; "What if this is just a story to explain why Sylvia cares so much for the Prince? I could end it with her being safe behind the wall, and leave off even mentioning anything of actually meeting the Prince or the Raven."

"What? And leave all that character potential unused?"

"Isn't it better for her to be safe than 'fulfilled'?" Fakir responded, "And I'm not taking the ending from her, just postponing it until later."

Autor rolled his eyes. "That's just an excuse. You just don't think you can write it, even though you most assuredly can."

"What about the others?" Fakir continued, avoiding Autor's remark, "You were saying that I left them too open at the end. If Kurt got Sylvia got back safely to Ironrod, it'd take care of Marie's open ending. Leopold's as well. Whether they get stuck outside or not, they would have the charms to protect them because Sylvia wouldn't be there. It would be almost like nothing had happened, except that Sylvia has more reason to love and help the Prince later."

"But… you can't just end a story like that!" Autor responded, "Not when you started it off with so many clichés! If you end it by making absolutely no progress with the characters, except maybe Leopold, and arguably Marie depending on what is done with her, then there is hardly a point in writing it!"

"Well it wasn't exactly my first choice either," Fakir responded, "but I want to make it safe again."

"Safe doesn't make for good stories, Fakir."

"It does when those stories start to become _your_ life."

Autor pursed his lips and eventually sighed; "Fine. But good luck convincing reality to believe you if I don't."

"What do you mean?" Fakir asked, "I'll just change a little bit of the dialogue, and the rest will take care of itself."

Autor scoffed. "You should know better than that by now. Once a story gets going, you have to fight for control of it. Change too much without enough skill, and the story won't believe you anymore, and neither will reality."

"I _know_," Fakir replied, "That's why we're here; I seem to have gotten a better hold of that skill-"

"So you can't just throw it away again!" Autor returned.

Fakir looked at him for a few moments. "… And how would this be throwing it away?"

"Because you've created a full character, Fakir, like it or not. A few of them, actually. And you know how they work. _You_ have to manipulate them appropriately. Just pushing them back behind the wall won't fix things, especially for them, even I can see that."

"… I'm trying to protect them-" Fakir started.

"You can't protect everyone, Fakir," Autor stated, "You should know that by now. Especially concerning this story. You knew the ending when you started. You can't just pander it off like you never intended to make it happen. Maybe that's the reason the story is changing our world again; maybe it's because you never wanted to write the ending, so it never happened. If you truly think your powers have matured to that point, then perhaps Princess Tutu never sacrificed herself in the book. The Prince and the Raven were the only living creatures to come through from that world, that hasn't changed. So if this is the case, then Tutu never existed here."

Fakir looked at Autor, stricken. Autor had his cold, calculating gaze on, but it lacked edges. It was like he was merely stating facts instead of hurling them like knives at Fakir. But they still hurt like blades.

"Pick which reality you want to protect;" Autor continued, "the story's or ours."

Fakir got up, stood for a few seconds, then handed Autor some papers. "Here," he said vacantly, "look through it again. I'm going for a walk." Then he turned and left.

Autor wanted to argue, but as Fakir was already turning around a bookshelf, he hmph'd and went to work on the papers again.

Duck stayed where she was, unsure what all was happening. Fakir was dealing with a lot more serious things than his other small stories since she had become a duck… If this had the power to change both the worlds, Fakir must be having a hard time right now. Autor wasn't helping. But even if Fakir didn't want to tell her about it, for whatever reason, she should be there for him. She left the library to follow Fakir, balking briefly as she passed a student with what looked like a lizard tail. She hoped he thought of something soon.


	37. Counsel

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Counsel

'_You can't protect everyone, Fakir… Pick which reality you want to protect.'_

Fakir walked around town, Autor's words echoing in his mind. When he had written to protect before, it hadn't been such a dichotomy. He had known what he needed to write to protect both realities, or at least what to write about; he just had to sit down and do it. Easier said than done, of course, but he'd done it. Albeit, the realities had also been combined at the time, so that made things easier. He hadn't thought so at the time, but now… He didn't even know what to write, let alone how to write it. He needed to figure out what he was doing quickly, for every moment he waited the more was bound to change back. But…

What was his problem? His main concern was protecting Duck, and she was a part of this reality. If he preserved this reality, it would preserve how everyone else ended up, too. He had been able to write about Duck giving up the pendant as Princess Tutu without many problems. What was so different about writing the same thing for Princess Sylvia? The Princess Tutu title seemed to be a persona anyway, maybe just that part of her would disappear as light.

But with Duck, there had already been something else behind Princess Tutu: Duck. With Sylvia, Princess Tutu was an integral part of her, if the people's words were anything to go by. Sylvia took her role as a princess of the people too seriously to distance herself from the title given her. If he took away only that part, she would be incomplete; her heart wouldn't be whole. It would be like when Mytho was starting to regain his heart shards, but never be complete.

… Would that really be so bad? Mytho had survived for a number of years on nothing, after all. Surely Sylvia could get by with most of her heart? … Not as a princess, though. If she lost the part of her heart dedicated to the people, she might reign, but she couldn't be of nearly as much help as she would have been with a whole heart. The people would notice, as well. And if she couldn't fulfill the role that she was bound to in the story, why was he saving her in the first place? She herself had rambled about leaving the kingdom for the betterment of her people, and cried at the very notion. She could think of nothing else to do with herself except flee, or… kill herself.

Fakir shook his head. That was _not_ an option. He was trying to figure out how she would _live_, not necessarily flourish. So what if she lost that part of her heart? Then she could flee. Without her devotion to her people, it would be easier to leave. The new lands she went to would not have knowledge of her previous state, and simply accept her as she was. Like everyone at the school had accepted Mytho's listlessness. Although, it would be difficult to get her to a place not ravaged by the Raven in the story… Or find a way to live in one that was. Who knew if she would find anyone as generous as Charon had been regarding Mytho. And she would still be leaving Siegfried behind, another thing that made her heart break. Maybe that love could be taken out with Princess Tutu as well…?

Fakir stopped walking. What was he thinking? Shattering another person's heart, even just a little, simply so he could make them do what he wanted? No, his mind argued, in order to best protect her! She deserved to live, too, after all. She wasn't just a character, just like no one in Goldcrown were just characters! He could protect all of their lives!

But, to take apart her heart in order to achieve it… Just because the Prince had done it didn't mean it was always the right option. Mytho hadn't suffered without his heart, but he hadn't smiled either. That would just be existing, not having much in it of meaning. And Sylvia would still have enough of her heart left to know she was missing a part of it. He couldn't do that to her, he should know better than to even consider it. Shaking his head, he resumed walking and turned around a house.

He walked down a pathway through some grass for a short time, then turned over to some stones. He sighed as he tried to calm down and prepare himself to listen. He hadn't come by for quite a while, but if anyone could help him right now, it was the oak tree. He knew it would probably be difficult to grasp some of the tree's advice without practice, but he had to try. He sat down and gently placed his hand on the stone before him.

* * *

Some time later, Fakir released the rock. He opened his eyes and stared at the rock, then put a hand to his head. "Listen to the spirit within… and let it speak through you." That was what the tree had said, a mantra repeated in his mind over and over. But what did it mean? The only thing that came to mind was Drosselmeyer telling Fakir to write '_more freely and irresponsibly,_' and the tree spirit _certainly_ hadn't meant that. But what else? What was the spirit within?

Fakir got up and turned, then stopped in surprise. Duck was asleep in the grass nearby. He thought she'd stayed in the library, probably still fuming at him. Maybe she had tired of waiting and come to find him. He smiled at her sleeping form. She was trying to support him, even though he hadn't told her the least bit about his story. He probably should have, although when or what parts he still wasn't sure about. Would she have understood that he was writing solely about Tutu and not her? And that Tutu was a different person even in the story? Was Tutu even separate from Sylvia? Even he wasn't entirely sure he understood all of that.

He knelt down and prodded Duck gently. She didn't respond, so he tried again. Still no response. He rolled his eyes; he'd forgotten how hard she slept. He poked her harder and said louder than usual, "Hey."

Duck jumped a little, blinking awake, and whipped her head around. When she saw Fakir, instead of calming down, she quacked and flapped backwards, afraid. Fakir went on alert, glancing behind him, but focused on Duck again when he didn't see anything. "Duck," he urged, "Duck!" He reached out to calm her as she freaked out. She stopped when she looked at his face, and his hands quickly smoothed her feathers.

He looked worried, and Duck felt guilty; "Quack…" she started, "qua-"

Fakir cut her off by picking her up and holding her close. He didn't know what had just happened, but it wasn't normal. Maybe she had been having a really bad dream. Maybe she had thought she'd seen Drosselmeyr behind him. Or maybe things were changing more than he thought, and she was starting to forget things…

"I'm sorry," Fakir murmured, not letting her go; "For before, and... I know I need to get on with writing, but… I just can't figure out what the problem is." His mind ran through plot points again, and still didn't see how doing them changed the story at all. If some of them didn't happen, nothing within the story would change; with others, it would completely derail the story if he neglected them, which wouldn't help either. Sylvia _had_ to go outside the walls. She had to encounter the Raven if she was going to turn into a speck of light. She had to have Siegfried as an added incentive along with helping the people to embolden her enough to do those things. Marie had to pronounce the curse so that the speck-of-light transformation would happen. Leopold had to give Tutu his protection charm so that he would be injured and make Marie upset enough to pronounce the curse.

But again, another part of him whispered, what about just shattering her heart a little bit? Taking the Princess Tutu part of her heart to save Duck and Goldcrown, and leaving Sylvia to carry on a life with just a little bit missing?

No, he fought back. He had already decided that shattering hearts was not the answer. Besides, the curse didn't even mention anything about heart shards-

Fakir's thoughts stopped. The curse said _nothing_ about heart shards or shattering or anything of the sort. The pendant that allowed Duck to change into Princess Tutu, the persona that filtered into this world, was a heart shard of the Prince. Fakir had assumed that turning into a speck of light would turn Sylvia into the heart shard, somehow, but he never mentioned it in the story. Of course, neither had 'The Prince and The Raven,' but that story wasn't about the Princess. Fakir's was.

That was it! The story he was writing was more involved in the Princess' life, and if there was a curse that she would turn into a speck of light, that's just what would happen! There would be no heart shard business involved, just the disappearing. If he wrote the curse, he had to write all of it. Almost in shock with delight, Fakir loosened his hold on Duck. All he had to do was go back to the curse, put in a little bit about becoming a part of the Prince's heart, and that should fix everything! Oh, but now there was getting Marie to word the curse right while she was still so angry… How would that work?

Fakir almost got up, when another thought struck. Sylvia still had no future. She was definitely going to turn into a speck of light now. But that was the point, he argued with himself, he was choosing a reality to save! And it also happened to save the most people!

But how did he know? How much longer would it be before Siegfried took out his heart on the story? How many more hearts would the Raven consume in the meantime? How many more knights would fall in battle?

Duck hadn't moved from his lap, and looked at him, concerned. "Quack?"

"I… I think I know what I need to fix in the story," Fakir started, not looking at her.

Ducks face lit up. "Quack!"

"But…" he went on, "I can't help but worry that it's the wrong way to do it."

Duck looked confused.

Reluctantly, he continued; "I feel like… I'm forcing it to happen. Like I'm letting all kinds of horrible things happen just so I can fix things here."

Duck's expression didn't change. "Quack?"

"I mean, yes, there's a war going on in there, and I can't stop it," Fakir said, "but it's not that. I could make it easier for some of them to get through, I could give them some hope, even a better life. But that would involve letting things here go back to the way they were…"

"Quaa…" Duck was still confused.

Fakir sighed. He couldn't explain it all right now, but he had to try something. The tree wasn't being of any help, and Autor expected him to come up with an answer. He didn't have time to tell her all of it, but he could at least count on her to be hopeful about what he could share. He set Duck on the ground and looked at her seriously. "My story is about the person Princess Tutu in the story 'The Prince and The Raven,' before the final shattering of the Prince's heart."

Duck's eyes widened.

"I thought that it would be safe to write about because it was in the past," Fair rambled, "and was already done with. But apparently not. Drosselmeyer left her character so open that I had a lot of room to work with. As I wrote, there were some turns taken in the story that led the Princess to question herself, and she ran away after the curse was pronounced." Again, the image of Sylvia crying at the lake's shore flashed through his mind. He had gotten rid of that part, it shouldn't still be bothering him. He moved on. "I feel like…" Fakir felt like Sylvia would still be torn inside herself, about going to find Siegfried or returning to her people, or even running away. He tried moving on again. "I feel like she might go either way, like she could either go to the Raven and then turn into the speck of light, or she could return to the people. I don't know which. The first is better for us, because she'll turn into a speck of light and become the last heart shard. But if she returns to the people…" Fakir scratched his neck with a hand and looked away, "That almost seems a more plausible option, since she cares for everyone so much. But that would mean no final heart shard with Tutu in Goldcrown." Fakir returned to looking at Duck; "That would mean you never became a human, or Princess Tutu."

Duck was shocked. She had guessed that something might have involved Princess Tutu back in the library, but not anything like _this_.

"Now I know that the obvious option is to just have her go to the Raven and turn into light, into the heart shard," Fakir continued, closing his eyes, "But every time I think about it, I can't help but think of us, of Drosselmeyer, of how Drosselmeyer forced us towards things we didn't want. How I would be forcing the Princess towards the ending _I _want. And… it might be for selfish reasons…" he opened his eyes, filled with guilt.

Duck was touched. Did he mean that he wanted to allow her to turn into a human and go through everything, to keep this ending, more than he wanted to change things in the past? Duck felt warmth in her face, and in her heart. But then she caught herself and shook her head, clearing her mind. "Quack!" she said, "Quaack quack!"

Fakir's face didn't change; "Are you agreeing that I shouldn't force her towards it?"

"Quack!" Duck argued, shaking her head harder; "Qua… quack!" she paused and changed positions, nodding briefly. Then she stopped again; "Qua…" she frowned in thought. "Quaack, quack quack, qua quack. Quack quaaack, qua…" she tried explaining herself, making gestures in general, but Fakir wasn't understanding.

He stood up with a tired sigh; "… I'm just going to do it. I'm going to write the curse and have her turn into a speck of light, whether she was planning to or not."

"_Quack_!" Duck exclaimed, frantically making an 'x'; "Quack!"

"… Are you saying you'd rather have always been a duck, and never had the chance to be a human?" Fakir asked, bitterness creeping into his tone.

"Quack!" Duck replied, shaking her head, "Quack quaaack!"

"Well I have to make a choice," Fakir replied sternly, although his voice held some desperation, "and soon, or else it won't matter what I think anymore."

"Quack quack quaaack!" Duck pleaded, "Quack quack?" she gestured at the rocks he had been sitting in front of.

"I already tried going to the tree," Fakir said, "and all it gave me was useless drabble. I don't know how to listen to the 'spirit within,' or even what the spirit within is! How can I let it speak through me if I don't even know that?"

Duck looked at him questioningly.

"The tree just repeated 'listen to the spirit within, and let it speak through you' over and over," Fakir recited irately.

Duck thought about it for a moment, then slowly gestured at her heart questioningly.

Fakir furrowed his eyebrows; "… You…?"

Duck quickly shook her head, then pointed at Fakir's heart. Fakir's confusion didn't lessen. Duck gestured at herself again, then at Fakir, and touched a feather to her head in the mime for 'remember'. Then she did a little pirouette.

Fakir remembered the dances they'd done together when she was human. There weren't many. She must have been referring to the last one, in the Lake of Despair. "When we were under the water…?"

Duck nodded, and gestured at Fakir again.

"I came to you…"

She nodded encouragingly.

"And… said that all stories… had to come to an end;" A lump found itself in his throat.

She motioned for him to continue.

He fought it back down; "And… that we had to be our true selves to do it."

Duck nodded. "Quack quack?" she asked, gesturing to the rock.

Fakir finally understood. "Perhaps it's my true self that is the spirit within…?"

Duck nodded, still inquisitive.

Fakir thought about it. "I guess… that does make sense… But if that's true, then my spirit within wants to protect you, Duck. I promised that I would stay by you, and the only way to do that… is to have Princess Tutu turn into a speck of light." He gritted his teeth. Why did he have to go and give the Princess a backstory?

Duck hesitated, then shook her head.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" he demanded, unable to keep his voice entirely even, "I am a descendant of Drosselmeyer. If I'm going to write, then I have to accept that I will use that power like he did at times, but to protect those around me! To protect you, Duck!"

Duck shook her head again, and before he could argue anything more, she stepped forward and hugged his leg.

Fakir's throat constricted, and his eyes burned. She was asking him to find another way. She was saying that she believed there _was_ another way, and that he could find it. She didn't have to speak for him to understand that.

"… You have a lot of faith in me," he said shakily; "Do you really think I deserve all of that?"

Duck smiled; "Quack."

Fakir blinked away some tears, then scooped her up and hugged her. Even though he felt no closer to a choice in the matter, he treasured her trust in him. He hoped that would be enough to help him succeed. Then he took off with her down the street, and headed towards the library.


	38. Making Changes

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Making Changes

Despite the school day only just ending, the library was quite empty. Fakir found Autor at the table still, papers scattered around him, although he probably ordered in some way. Autor looked up, and didn't seem surprised to see Duck in his arms. "What did you do, go take a nap?'" he chided, "Let's get back to work. Now, I think I found something that I thought was just a repeated mistake before, but could hold some significance."

"What is it?" Fakir asked, coming around beside Autor.

"At these points here, here," Autor said, gesturing to pages in front of him, "here, and near the end here. The characters seem to be responding to something that wasn't said, or even described in the narrative. At first I just thought that there were missing pieces of text that you had forgotten to write down. But comparing them, I see that they have something in common: they all are argumentative regarding their thoughts, and seem aimed at something outside of themselves."

Fakir recognized the locations Autor was pointing to. They were all times when he had said something out loud, and some of the characters reacted. He had hoped it wouldn't be that obvious.

"After I noticed their commonalities," Autor continued, "I decided to compare them closer together. At first, I thought that perhaps their inner doubts were manifesting themselves in some way. This is a fairytale setting, after all. But then I realized that the fairytale setting was what was causing this. Fairies and spirits are known for their ability to look into people's hearts, and even communicate without words. You probably didn't even realize it, but you seem to have added a spirit into the story. If you are skilled enough to manipulate reality, then it can also manipulate you if you aren't careful. Now I don't know if this is the same spirit that the king said should be looking out for his daughter, or maybe is messing with the kingdom, or why it also decided to talk to Marie. Spirits are strange things. But you could use that to your advantage, and use it to change the story back to what it needs to be."

Fakir hadn't even thought about those little mishaps since they occurred, and had actually been hoping to forget about them. He should have known that Autor would pick them out and analyze them for something. He wouldn't have expect Autor to actually find anything, but the idea that his words could be interpreted as a spirit was interesting…

"Just what it 'needs' to be, I don't know;" Autor said, "You're the author; you need to decide."

"Actually, I figured that part out already," Fakir said distractedly.

"What?" Autor demanded, although he continued slightly calmer; "You mean you know what needs to be changed?

Fakir set Duck down and sifted through the different pages, returning to his previous train of thought; "Yes; I just need to change the curse that I put in the story. Add a little bit onto it." He finally found the page he was looking for.

Duck tried to avoid reading some of the papers on the table, she knew they were all jumbled together, but she couldn't help looking at just a few sentences. They didn't make a lot of sense, but what bits she read seemed nice. Fakir was getting better for sure. She wished she could read all of it right now.

"What you mean 'add on'?" Autor asked, looking at the page with Fakir, "What else need there be?"

Fakir had some problems finding the exact location on the page, with so many notes along the sides in Autor's handwriting, but eventually he found it. "I need to mention a heart shard; that the Princess will turn into one." Fakir was trying to figure out where he might place the extra dialogue. The page was pretty full as it was, and he didn't want to mess up anything else. Eventually he went over to a desk and grabbed a few sheets of blank paper.

"Oh; _becoming_ a heart shard? I see…" Autor mused, "That would explain some things, put in the context… You really need to explain some of your ideas more to the readers, Fakir."

As Fakir returned and grabbed a pen, Duck continued trying to avoid reading and went over to a window. Looking out, she saw a few students by the fountain. One of them was an ostrich. Duck hoped that Fakir's plan worked quickly.

Fakir sat down and reread Marie's line: _"Fine then!" Marie glared at Princess Sylvia, tears now falling down her face; "May you turn into light! If you truly care so much, then as soon as you confess your love, may you turn into a speck of light and _vanish_!__"_

That was pretty powerful in itself. What could be added in to hint at heart shards? 'If you truly care so much, then become a part of that love yourself; may you turn into a speck of light and vanish!' Too vague. 'If you truly care so much, then may you vanish into a heart yourself!' No. 'If you truly care so much…' 'May you turn into light as soon as you confess your love! May your light become one with the heart of your love…' No, that didn't make sense. What would be the good in that?

"Are you going to fix it, then?" Autor prompted.

"I'm trying to find a better way to word it," Fakir said, "But everything just sounds like the curse is being softened, not the accusation of bitterness that Marie is trying to make it. Just as it is, it sounds fine, but adding in anything about becoming a heart shard… It doesn't feel right."

"Well, your feelings about writing aren't always exactly correct;" Autor said, gesturing to all his own notes on Fakir's writing. "Until you write it down, I can't help you with your wording."

Fakir pursed his lips. He didn't like it, but they were running short on time. So Fakir set the pen to the blank paper.

"_Fine then!" Marie glared at Princess Sylvia, tears now falling down her face; "May you turn into light as soon as you confess your love! __May the heart break as you enter its- May the heart you try to enter reject your love! May your love bind you past death__ May you never-_

"How much do you intend to add on?" Autor asked.

"I can't get it to sound right!" Fakir snapped as he crossed it all out.

"You're probably just not reading it right," Autor admonished, "Let me see."

Without waiting, Autor read over Fakir's shoulder through the crossings out. Autor pursed his lips; "You're right. You're trying too hard."

"Well what am I supposed to do?" Fakir retorted.

"You have to get into the flow of writing again," Autor said, "Connect with the story so you can pull its strings appropriately."

"I don't have time to get the flow going again!"

"… Well, then," Autor said, lifting his hands in a helpless gesture, "just put in a vague description of the curse instead of actually having Marie say it."

"What? Wouldn't that break the feeling behind it, especially since there's been an argument going on?" Fakir argued.

"Well yes, but you're the one who said you don't have time to work with that. Besides, that didn't stop you from resorting to vague descriptions at the ending," Autor reminded him a bit bitterly, "And those seem to have been taken just fine by reality."

Fakir grimaced - the ending _had_ felt a bit forced, and it had also been done under pressure. It wasn't like he had less pressure now, either. Sighing, he put pen back to paper.

_Overwhelmed by her emotions, Marie tearfully cried out against the Princess, pronouncing a curse that would turn her into a speck of light once she confessed her love, becoming a piece of the heart of the one she loved. The curse was sealed as a crow unexpectedly attacked, and as it was sliced apart, spattered blood on the Princess, who was frozen in shock._

"There," Fakir said, setting the pen aside, "That should be enough."

Autor read it, then nodded a little. "It's not any less descriptive than the final piece you wrote." Under his breath, he added, "We'll work on sentences structure later..."

Then they waited expectantly.

"… How do we know if it worked?" Fakir asked after a few moments of silence.

Autor shrugged; "How did you know the last time? With the Raven?"

Fakir frowned; "I don't know… I guess I didn't, really. I just wanted to make sure Duck was ok, and I felt like I couldn't stop writing until the story was done with me. As soon as that connection ended, I dropped the pen and ran off."

Autor sighed a little, and was glad he had been unconscious for that part. He knew Fakir wouldn't have been held back from checking on Duck, but he personally still felt a bit miffed that Fakir could just abandon his story pages like that, especially a completed draft. Shaking his head, Autor continued; "Well did you feel anything when you finished this story?"

"Irritation," Fakir responded.

"I meant where _you_ intended to end it," Autor emphasized, "It was obvious you weren't feeling anything when you jotted down the last few lines in front of me yesterday."

"… No, not really," Fakir returned; "Mostly just pressed for time, and that I didn't get in everything I wanted." His mind went through a few scenes he hadn't gotten to work with very much.

Autor nodded; "That's fairly normal. Anything else?"

Fakir started to shake his head, when his thoughts ran into Sylvia at the lake again, and a pang of regret hit him hard. He clenched his fist, then got up; "Why don't we check outside?" He started going to the window where Duck was.

Duck looked back briefly, but went back to looking out the window as Fakir approached. Autor scrutinized Fakir briefly, but joined him at the window.

There was a different group of students there, still only a small group. One of them seemed to be a leopard or similar large cat.

"There appears to be no effect," Autor stated.

"Quack quaack," Duck started arguing, "qua-qua-quack qua-"

"Maybe it just takes a while to work," Fakir said, interrupting; "When I wrote the ending yesterday, it took almost full day for things to start changing here. Perhaps because I'm writing about the past, when things change there, it takes some time for it to filter to our present time."

"… Perhaps," Autor said, unconvinced. He eyed Fakir suspiciously. Fakir turned and caught his gaze. Autor didn't waver.

Fakir stared back, then closed his eyes and turned, returning to the table. "If that's everything you can think of," he said as he gathered his papers, "then I'm going to take Duck back into town."

Duck turned, confused. "Quack? Quack quaaack."

Autor continued watching Fakir; "If you're sure that there's nothing else to be done but look over my notes and wait, then I suppose that is all I can do for now." He waited for Fakir to say anything else. Duck turned from the window to better hear Fakir's response. Fakir just tapped his pile of papers together on the desk. "As long as you have done what you can to convince reality that your story is the right one," Autor continued cryptically, "and not just convinced yourself of it."

Fakir paused and looked at Autor, but then put his papers in his bag and went over to the window. He reached out to pick up Duck, but she just stared at him inquiringly, also waiting for an answer. Fakir balked briefly; since when did she side with Autor?

"Yes, fine," Fakir said, "I've done what I can. I just don't see the point in waiting around here when I've written what I can, explored the options available, and could probably use some sleep."

"Quack quack," Duck insisted, gesturing with shooing motions for Fakir to go on without her, "Quack."

"I'm not too tired to take you back," Fakir maintained, extending his arm again.

Duck thought of protesting, but decided against it and got into Fakir's arms. He held her and started leaving. "Let me know if you see changes getting worse," Fakir called back to Autor, "I'll be back in my room in a while."

"You mean _other_ than the students and staff who have become animals?"

Fakir nodded without looking back.

"You can be sure of it," Autor intoned as Fakir left.


	39. Convincing

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Convincing

As Fakir walked back to the smithy with Duck in his arms, they passed students here and there, a few of them animals. Fakir always tensed as they walked by. As they passed a short crocodile girl, who turned her head as they walked by, Fakir held Duck a little closer and shot a glance at the girl. She caught it and pretended like she hadn't even seen them.

As they were passing the dorms, Duck squirmed out of Fakir's arms. Frowning, he stopped and looked around; "What?" he asked her, not seeing anything.

"Quack, quack," she said, gesturing towards the dorms and looking at him.

"I told you, I'm fine," Fakir said.

"Quack quaack!" she argued.

"I've been through more tiring situations and still been able to handle myself," Fakir continued, "And besides, you'll be safer in town. Things don't seem to be changing as quickly there."

"Quaack!" Duck protested, "Quack quack, qua-qua-quack;" she pointed to two students who were walking into the girls' dorms; well, one of them was. The other was a frog in uniform sitting on the girl's head.

Fakir tensed; "Autor said he would watch for changes. We were in the library for a while, most of this probably happened during that time. It will probably change back after some time, we just have to wait."

"Quack quack," Duck said, pointing to the ground where she stood. Then she paused and pointed at the central fountain; "Qua, quack."

"No, you shouldn't just wait here," Fakir argued, "you should be where it's safer; namely not on campus."

"Quack, quack quaack," Duck said.

Fakir sighed; "I said that I would take you to Charon's. If you want to walk on your own, that's fine, but we're going." He started walking away from the dorms again.

Duck watched him, then began heading towards the fountain.

Fakir continued walking, and looked behind him to see if she was coming. He saw her waddling towards the fountain. "Duck!" he called.

She ignored him.

"Duck!" he called again. She didn't stop. Irritated, Fakir strode towards her.

Duck glanced back, saw him coming, and gave a brief startled quack before running towards the fountain. Fakir rushed after her. She knew she couldn't outrun him as a duck, so she weaved around, making it harder for him to follow.

"Duck," Fakir said, "_What_ are you doing?"

"Quack!" she answered, not stopping.

He didn't know what she said, but watching her weave he then tried to grab her. Duck flapped just out of his reach. Determined, Fakir continued chasing her for a little bit. Then Duck jumped into the fountain and dove under the water. Fakir stopped at the edge, and glared as Duck came up close to the inside of the fountain, over on a side. Out of reach. She saw him glaring and stuck her tongue out at him.

"… Fine," Fakir huffed as he stood up. He was about to say something else, but then turned and left.

Put off by Fakir's attitude, Duck stuck her tongue out again at his back.

* * *

Fakir laid on his bed, trying to stop thinking and actually rest. His mind refused to stop going over infinite scenarios, though. What if the words hadn't been enough? What if the story didn't believe him? What if things kept changing?

Autor had mentioned that Fakir could use a spirit to fix things. Somehow. When Fakir talked, in the story it did seem like another presence was there, and both Sylvia and Marie thought someone else was there. Fakir remembered when Sylvia actually had called him a spirit, in the scene he'd thrown out. Maybe that's why he didn't think of the spirit idea before - he'd been trying to forget that entire episode.

But yet it still played at the back of his mind. Not constantly, but it remained there. Why? Was it because Fakir had been writing something where someone could die and it would be his fault? Was it because the desperation in Sylvia reminded him of Duck when she was in the Lake of Despair? Was it because he wasn't used to being called out by anyone except Duck, and lately Autor?

Fakir turned in his bed, again. He wished that Duck was there so he could be sure she was still around. Sure, he knew she was out in the fountain, and she'd obviously wanted to stay there. But he would feel better if he could watch her himself, make sure she was doing alright. Not that he'd be able to help her much. Maybe he just wanted her there for his own comfort…

Sylvia didn't have any comfort. She only had the hope that the Prince would accept her help and her love, and that proved her undoing. She didn't even get to have Kurt support her decision.

Fakir sat up, glaring at the wall. _Why_ were these stupid thoughts repeatedly coming to him, again and again?!

_Because the story still wasn__'t done yet._

Fakir whipped his head around and glared at the papers. He had written the ending. The story was over. He fixed a little bit inside of it, and would go over Autor's notes later, but he wasn't going to rewrite it. Not after all this. Nor was he going to add anything. Again. The story was _done_.

_And yet it wasn__'t._

"What do you want from me?" Fakir demanded of the pile.

It was silent. Fakir was reminded how Sylvia had called out to him, and he'd left her waiting. A long time.

Well this wasn't another author, Fakir reasoned, because Drosselmeyer was gone and he didn't know anyone else who had the same powers. And even if they existed, why would they be prodding him to write more on a different story that had already been fixed? It didn't make any sense. And it couldn't be a character in the story, because neither Marie nor Sylvia were that calm about the whole situation, and they were the only ones who noticed him. Briefly.

But he had been feeling like something was missing ever since he ended the story. No, even a bit before then. Since… he'd thrown out that scene. But he had felt so good about getting rid of it. And he had continued writing without problems except at the very end.

Maybe he'd felt good about casting the part out because _he_ didn't want to write it. He didn't want to face the consequences of continuing to write with Sylvia in her hysterical state. That made sense. But it was his choice whether or not to include something in the story. And if it was too difficult for him to write well, then it wouldn't matter at this point anyway.

… But what if the story still believed him? What if it took what he wrote the first time as the 'correct' route, and didn't believe the rest of what he'd written? Well, he thought, then why did it take so long for things to change? Because it still hadn't had an ending. It wasn't the best written ending, but it had been enough to work.

Fakir placed his hands on his knees. Why would the story believe that part and not the pieces he'd written after? They had just as much emotional involvement from him in them; simply less verbal interaction. And it wouldn't make a huge difference to the overall plot if those bits were included, even if it did believe the rest of what he wrote. As long as Sylvia survived, anyway. And if she still wanted to go search for the Prince. Which were pretty big ifs.

Sighing, Fakir remembered that he'd simply crumpled the papers he wrote that scene on and threw them across the room. He swung his legs over the bed and searched for them. If he looked over it again, maybe he could determine the probability of Sylvia actually living through it all. If he could figure out what to say to her.

He got on the floor to look around books. Maybe _he_ wouldn't have to be the one to say anything to her - that might actually be a good place for the so-called spirit to enter in. They they could deal with her drama, he thought irately. Of course, he'd still have to be the one coming up with the words.

He found a wad of paper and opened it, discovering it was actually two papers. They proved to be two of the pages. Quickly putting them aside, he continued looking and soon found the others not far. Smoothing them out, he reread the twentieth chapter, starting as she ran away through the trees.

He reread her anxiety and frustration as she sat in the woods and cried. He reread her anger, and shock as she heard a voice that wasn't on the page. He remembered telling her to stop hurting herself. He read as she called out, and waited, read her trying to think about what the voice could be. He read himself trying to direct her thoughts elsewhere, and failing. About Sylvia dragging herself to the lake and despairing over her pitiful circumstances. As she demanded answers of him, yelled at him, pleaded with him. As she contemplated running away; and then as she decided upon a different answer.

"_Tell me, then," she responded evenly._

"_Tell me why not, and I won't end it," Sylvia continued as she walked deeper, her voice wavering slightly; "But otherwise, there is no reason for me to live."_

_Sylvia smiled tiredly as the water came to her hips. __"Everyone will be better off without me. My help only causes problems."_

Fakir could feel the connection to the story, strongly. It was still waiting. _She_ was still waiting, hoping. He had been right; the story wouldn't let him forget about this part.

He still had no words for her. But maybe a spirit would.

Fakir picked up his pen and ink.


	40. Return to Chapter Twenty-one

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Return to Chapter Twenty-one

_As Sylvia walked further into the lake, suddenly a bright light shined on the water beside her. It was white, and shined brighter than any of the stars. Sylvia stopped where she was and stared, shielding her eyes as the light intensified. When the light faded to a glow, she looked again. Sitting on the surface of the lake was a large white swan made of light, at least as large as a person, likely taller. The swan had no distinguishing features, but its radiance exuded beauty and elegance. Its head was bowed, and although she could not recognize any eyes, it appeared to be looking at her._

_"__… Are you the spirit?" she asked, "The one I hear at times but no one else notices?"_

_It tilted its head at her, inquisitive._

"_Are you the one who questions my actions," she asked, more demanding, "who says I am better than I really am?"_

'_Are you not a Princess?' the swan intoned, beak never moving._

_Sylvia thought the spirit sounded a bit different than the voice she had heard before._

"… _Do you really need this voice?"_ Fakir asked as he wrote the words. Conversations were hard enough to keep track of in writing, he didn't want to keep speaking aloud. And writing the swan was different than just himself speaking. He did have to put in some characterization, after all.

_The voice echoed from everywhere around her, startling her. It was certainly the voice that she had heard before. Having a body to associate with it made the echoing more__… intimidating. She didn't need that. "No," she answered, more confidently than she felt, "but you may communicate as you wish."_

_The swan spirit answered nothing._

"_You must tell me, though," Sylvia continued, "why shouldn't I end my life here?"_

_The swan looked at the lake, and then swam, no, glided over the water to her. Stopping in front of her, it asked, __'Do you wish to die?'_

_Sylvia felt a moment of fear as the words were spoken by someone other than herself, but she soon looked down, resigned; __"… It doesn't really matter what I wish."_

'_But it is _your_ life,__' the swan said._

"_And I want to give it in helping people!" Sylvia replied, looking back up at the swan, tears forming; "But I can't! Everything I do just ends up hurting people!"_

'_Everything?'_

"_Well…" Sylvia conceded, "maybe not quite everything, but what does not hurt is not helping, either! Not in a perceptible way."_

'_Does that mean it is not helping?'_

_Sylvia was quiet. __"… No," she finally allowed softly, "but in this war it might as well be."_

_When the swan said nothing, Sylvia continued._

"_The war with the Raven has been going on for years, and if anything it is getting worse. I thought that… that if I could help my kingdom's people, if I could help Prince Siegfried, then the war might finally end. I knew better than to expect such drastic results, but, I thought that I could at least strengthen his armies, or… or something!"_

'_Did you not bring them food?'_

"_Yes but that isn't the same!" Sylvia argued desperately, tears starting to fall again, "That is from the people, and while I support them with all my heart, I had no part in the procuring of supplies! I did nothing except get in the way of the expedition's schedule, causing them injury as well as hardship! And even though I offered to do anything for the Prince and his armies, I was refused. I was told I could be of no help!"_

'… _Did you not dance for them?' the swan asked calmly._

_Sylvia practically choked on a laugh; __"Oh yes, I danced. But though I put my soul into my dancing, that will not help defeat the Raven."_

'_You might be surprised at what a pure heart can do…' the swan uttered as it moved towards the shore._

_Sylvia smiled sadly; __"If only I could be sure that my heart was pure…"_

'_What do you mean?'_

"_You know;" she stated, turning to look at the spirit, "You have heard my thoughts. Perhaps you even know better than I what my true reasons are for coming out to give aid to the Prince." Her eyes plead with the spirit to be told her own feelings._

'… _You wish to help the Prince defeat the Raven,' the swan said, pausing in its movement, 'to protect your kingdom, and all the kingdoms and people therein. But you also wish to protect the Prince because you care for him.'_

_Sylvia nodded and took some steps towards the spirit, towards the shore, asking for more._

'_Can they not both be true wishes?'_

_Sylvia was shocked; __"… I… I don't know…" she stammered, drifting a little in the water as her footing became less sure, "I just assumed… that if I wanted to help, there had to be one overwhelming reason…"_

'_Such as…?'_

"_I wanted to believe that it was to help the people, but I was scared that it was really because I wanted to see Prince Siegfried and offer to help…"_

_The swan swam closer to shore, and Sylvia suddenly rushed towards the spirit, smiling; __"But it could be both! I could truly want both!" Her eyes were lit with joy, and the spirit's light danced on the waves that formed around her._

_But as she reached water to her knees, Sylvia stopped and her eyes dimmed once more; __"But… that still does not mean I can help…"_

Fakir worried; he had to offer her something while she still might take it.

'_What if I could help you?' the swan asked, swimming towards her._

_Sylvia smiled wanly; __"Then I would need to find a way to repay you, as well as the kingdom for the problems I have caused, and you know that I have nothing of value."_

'_You have a curse laid on you.'_

_Sylvia looked at the swan spirit with wide eyes, confused; __"… What?"_

'_Didn't you know?' the swan asked, 'It's a curse to prevent you from confessing your love to your loved one. Doing so will cause you to turn into a speck of light and vanish.'_

_Sylvia remembered Marie__'s tearful pronouncement, the crow that had attacked and been sliced in front of her. Its blood splattered on her dress. Looking down, she saw the blood was still there. The stain was less vibrant now that she had been in the water, but it wasn't gone. Marie may or may not have truly meant to curse her, but the blood had sealed it regardless._

"_So… even if I could manage to get to Prince Siegfried…" she uttered, "I could never tell him my feelings…" This was worse than if she had managed to hide her feelings for the sake of the kingdom, for then she at least felt she was accomplishing a duty with her silence. But a curse… She fell onto her knees, splashing into the water up to her chest. The shock of the water was all that kept her aware enough to hear the spirit's next words._

'_I could help you. Help you with the Prince, the people, and even soften the curse.'_

_Sylvia looked up at the swan spirit, disbelief evident; __"How?"_

_The spirit came closer to her; __'I gave the Prince a special sword that is very powerful. Forged from my light, it will help him defeat the Raven, and he will succeed. However, because of its power, it can also be used for vile purposes. It can be used to take out his own heart. He will not die, but his heart will be shattered into pieces and scattered abroad. With these pieces, I will be able to help him confine the Raven. But the Prince is forbidden to use this power, for not only will he lose his heart, but he will be unable to destroy the Raven. The Raven will be imprisoned, and will no longer terrorize the lands, but it will be impossible to defeat him in his cage, as well.'_

_Sylvia was still grasping the words when the spirit continued._

'_While I cannot break your curse, I can alter it. Should you confess your love to the Prince, you will still disappear into a speck of light, but you will become a part of his heart. Should he ever use the forbidden magic, you will be scattered with one of the heart shards. I will grant you some of my power so that you may find him, and be able to help him regain the other shards; that he may battle the Raven once again, and with his heart whole, finally defeat the wicked creature.'_

"_Can you not prevent my disappearing at all?" Sylvia questioned._

_The swan shook its head; __'A curse sealed with blood is a powerful thing. I cannot break it.'_

"… _If I do this," she asked, "will the Prince know I am there? Will he know that I am with him?"_

'_He will feel you within his heart. You will give him support when nothing else can. You will be the Prince's Hope. This will enable him to defeat the Raven, and protect all the kingdoms.'_

_Sylvia stared into the water for a time. She felt the water tugging at her clothes. The swan spirit was offering a way for her to help, to truly give her all in support of the people and the Prince. She could not give him anything but herself anyway, and this... 'deal' would also mean she would always be with the Prince, or at least his heart. Although, she would also never be able to see her kingdom again, or the people__… Not that she hadn't been considering that anyway. The water still played around her, inviting her to lay down and simply never worry about it all ever again. But… the invitation seemed less desirable now. Except for one thing._

"… _Why would you do this?" she asked the spirit; "Why would you offer all of this to me?"_

'_This isn't just for you, Princess, but for all the kingdoms,' the swan responded, inclining its head; 'This war has consequences for more than just your kind. And remember this offer does not come without a price. You will never see your kingdom again, nor your people. You will still vanish as a speck of light if you confess your love.'_

"… _And if I refuse your offer?"_

_The swan ruffled its feathers in a shrug-like gesture. __'You are still cursed. If you refrain from confessing your love to the Prince, you can return to your people and continue ruling. You can lift those who look up to you. They all know you mean well, and if you return, you will learn better how to aid them in their endeavors, as a ruler should. However, the Raven will still be your enemy, and you will still be at war. And should the Prince ever shatter his heart, the Raven will be forever imprisoned and never defeated, and the Prince will be without a heart. There will be no one to gather the shards and make his heart whole again. The war will end, but it will never be truly over.'_

"_You said that Prince Siegfried would defeat the Raven with your sword," Sylvia protested._

'_With his heart whole, yes,' the swan said, 'but if he shatters his heart, there is nothing I can do to aid him.'_

"_But you are a spirit!"_

'_It is forbidden magic. I cannot help the Prince if he shatters his heart.'_

"… _Then what about me?" Sylvia asked, "How can I hope to help the Prince if even you cannot?"_

'_One with a pure heart like yourself can help repair the damage,' the swan replied, 'As a part of his heart, you would be able to gather his heart shards and allow him to finally defeat the Raven.'_

Fakir waited. He didn't really know why he waited. He knew which choice he wanted her to make. The swan spirit had put forth a very convincing argument. He knew what choice she was likely to make. But he knew he couldn't just force it out of her; it wasn't what Duck wanted.

_Sylvia sat in the water and thought. She drew her knees up and watched her skirt float around her, her chin not far above the water level. The spirit's glowing light__ danced on the water, and Sylvia wondered if the offer was worth it._

What is there to think about? Fakir wondered irately. Sylvia was already planning on never returning to her home anyway, one way or another; why should it be so difficult to simply take an offer to help others in the process?

'_You are still unsure?' the spirit prompted._

"_Yes, well…" Sylvia trailed off; "I am considering it."_

'_Do you not wish to help?'_

"_Oh yes, most assuredly," Sylvia replied discouragingly, "But… just how is the question."_

_The swan waited._

_Sylvia gazed deeper into the water, into her shadow so that no reflections distracted her. If she returned to her kingdom, she could help her people a little, as the spirit had said. The war would go on, but it would eventually end one way or another, either with the imprisonment or defeat of the Raven. But the people she cared for might not live to see it. And if Prince Siegfried shattered his heart__… she wasn't sure she could bear to see him in that state. And she would still be unable to tell him she loved him._

_The water was dark in her shadow, the stars__' reflected light seemingly nothing in comparison to the swan's glow. If she simply laid down here, she wouldn't cause problems for anyone ever again. Running away was also an option, but she would likely cause some grief wherever she went. And she was so tired now… And the Raven would just keep attacking for who knew how long…_

Fakir had to pause to put his face in his hands and restrain more frustrations from being voiced. _Why _did she keep putting off the choice? Did she really want to die that badly? Although turning into the speck of light now didn't _exactly_ equal death, it was close, and she could help people by doing it! That was her goal in life, wasn't it?

He wanted to point all of that out to Sylvia, but was unsure the best way to phrase it. He sighed and picked up his pen again, hoping the swan spirit would have more elegance.

_The swan spirit watched her, listening to her inner struggles. Then, it turned and started swimming away._

Wait. That wasn't what he'd meant to write.

_Sylvia noticed the reflections moving, and looked up after the swan spirit. __"Where are you going?"_

'_If you are not willing to make the choice,' the spirit said without turning, 'then I see no reason to wait for what will not happen.'_

What? Fakir did not like this; if the spirit left now, then Sylvia would be left alone to her thoughts, and that would _certainly_ not end well. But he just kept writing.

_Sylvia lifted her head; __"But…"_

'_I have offered what I can,' the spirit continued, then spread its wings; 'I cannot force you to take it.'_

_As the swan spirit beat its wings, Sylvia got up, the weight of her wet clothes causing her to stumble. __"Wait," she asked, pushing away the tiredness and steadying herself._

_The spirit began flying into the air._

"_Wait!" she called again, louder. What did the spirit want from her? It was a difficult choice! Should she give her life for her people and Prince Siegfried, or just drown her pitiful self and never trouble anyone again?_

_Then she realized that while she would never trouble anyone, she would also never be able to help anyone again. That thought grieved her as she finally saw what her thoughts were doing. She recognized that wanting to drown was selfish of her, and it was wrong, especially when she suddenly had the opportunity to do so much good!_

"Wait!"_ she cried out as the swan spirit flew higher, __"Please! I want to help! I will take your offer!"_

_The spirit didn__'t stop._

"_Just let me help everyone!" she shouted, determination returning to her voice, "Help me help them!"_

_Finally, the spirit turned around and glided back. When it arrived, it alighted on the shore._

_Sylvia quickly sloshed onto the banks, and approached the spirit with poise despite her dripping clothes. __"I will do whatever you ask," Sylvia said firmly, stepping near the spirit's glow; "Just please let me help end this war. For the people, and for Prince Siegfried."_

_The swan spirit nodded; __'You will be of more aid than you could ever imagine, Princess Sylvia,' the spirit said._

_Sylvia smiled; __"… Please; call me Princess Tutu."_

_The swan tilted its head._

"… _It is what the people call me;" Sylvia said, still smiling, "If I am going to be helping them, then I can think of no better title than the one they gave me."_

_Though she could see no expression, the swan seemed to smile in return; __'If that is what you wish.' Then it extended its wings and enveloped the Princess in light, glowing brighter and brighter._

_When the light faded, the Princess was dressed all in white, with a crown of white feathers adorning her shimmering hair. She opened her eyes with resolve, and looked to the swan spirit. __"Where can I find the Prince?"_

_The spirit pointed to a portion of sky; __'Go to where the sky is darkest, and you will find the Raven. The Prince has been pulled into negotiations with the creature, but the talk will not last forever.'_

_The Princess tensed in anticipation, nodded, and then took off._


	41. Chapter Twenty-two

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-two

Fakir breathed a sigh of relief as he set the pen to the side, resting his head on his hand. That… that scene could have gone so wrong. But it hadn't. The swan spirit ended up doing things a little differently than he had planned, but it had worked out. He still couldn't quite figure out why Sylvia had taken so long in deciding, but that didn't matter anymore. She was going through with it. He didn't have to worry about…

Yes he did. He still had to worry about Goldcrown, because now he had changed the story, and the previous ending he'd written no longer fit. The very end, sure, but Sylvia had no need to stop with the knights now. Nor would they probably believe she was the Princess. He had to re-write the ending. Well, more accurately, _actually_ write it. He could do something similar to the end he'd written in the library, a short descriptionary paragraph that told all in few words. But that wouldn't be following the style he'd stuck with for the rest of the story. It would be an abrupt change that might change the flow. And with all that Sylvia had gone through, now that she'd made such an important decision, she deserved more than just a few words about its consequences. If this story was going to be about the Princess, then it would follow her through til the end.

And he could take into account some of the problems he'd encountered with the previous ending. Like Marie; how she was going to be treated with the Princess missing because of her, as many would see it. Notably by Kurt and the King. Marie deserved some sort of ending, too.

_Marie stumbled through the trees in the dark. The stars were of little help that evening, and there was no moon. She huffed as she leaned on a tree, resting. No one was with her. She had kept track of where she was for a while, but her search seemed so hopeless now that she only tried to ensure she didn__'t travel in circles. And was moving away from Ironrod._

_When Annette had returned and asked for reinforcements, the group had split up: half went to search, and half had stayed. Marie had stayed. As the hours passed, they made a camp; while it was dangerous to be outside the wall after dark, the twilight had gone, and traveling only attracted attention. Marie watched over Leopold. Sir Kurt and Aldrick watched her. When the search party returned empty-handed, Kurt ordered that smaller parties be sent out throughout the night. Although Marie protested, she was sent out with the second party. Before they left, Kurt pulled her aside and intoned that if Marie could not find the Princess, it might be better for her not to return at all. The words had scared Marie, but she saw the reasoning to them. She__'d made sure Leopold was sleeping before they left, although he hadn't woken up since her spell, and stuck with the search group for a short time. Then, she slipped away, and had been searching on her own ever since. But though Marie tried, the Princess was nowhere to be found. Fleeing was quickly becoming her best option.  
_

_It pained her that she would have to leave Leopold, especially in his injured state. But he would live, and be cared for; that was what mattered. And even if she could find the Princess, Marie was unsure if she should return anyway. Not only was she wanted for treason in aiding the Princess__' escape, but she had verbally attacked royalty. And cursed her._

_Marie had wanted to yell at Princess Tutu at times, but never had she actually intended on doing it. Her anger and fear lately from the whole situation had just been roiling inside of her like a snake, ready to lash out at the nearest target. Leopold had felt it a little. And now so had the Princess. __But Marie truly hadn't meant to curse her! The words simply came out! And while the emotions had been powerful enough, only blood would have made them effective. That cursed crow must have sensed her anger… Or seen the Princess. It didn't matter. Now Princess Tutu had to deal with that as well. Even though the Princess was kind, Marie doubted even she could forgive such an act._

_Having regained some strength, Marie pushed off of the tree and began moving forward again. But before she got far, she heard something in the woods, to her right. It was coming towards her, quickly. Tensing, Marie returned to the tree and braced herself for__… something. The crows usually weren't out this late, and even if they were, illusions didn't make audible footsteps._

_Before she could think more on it, a large bright object sped past. It looked like__… the Princess? In different clothes, and glowing, but it looked like Princess Tutu!_

"_Princess!" Marie called out as bright white feathers flurried in her wake._

_Before getting out of sight, the glow stopped and turned around, returning to Marie. As it approached, Marie could hardly believe it. What she thought had been the Princess looked like__… a giant swan made of light…?_

_Disbelief clearly visible, Marie uttered, __"Princess Tutu…?"_

_The Princess stood before Marie, confused at the girl__'s expression. She hadn't expected to run into her out in the woods at this hour, but… Of course. Marie was probably being blamed for her absence. Princess Tutu smiled kindly. "Do not blame yourself, Marie."_

"_You're…" Marie stuttered, stepping back in awe, "You're a spirit… I'm sorry; I… I thought you were Princess Tutu. Our Princess," she tried to clarify._

_Princess Tutu frowned; __"But I am Princess Tutu."_

_Marie's eyes widened, and then she put a hand to her mouth; "You are… Great spirits, you ran away and were killed by another crow attack!" she exclaimed as her face crumpled, "The spirits took pity on your purity and turned you into this!" Marie dissolved into tears as she fell to her knees; "Please forgive me! I didn't intend for you to die! I was scared for Leopold, for myself! I never meant to curse you! I never wanted you to die… I don't deserve-"_

"No!" Fakir blurted.

_Both Princess Tutu and Marie looked up._

… right, Fakir thought, write it down.

'_No,' the swan's voice echoed, 'that is not what happened. Princess Tutu gave herself voluntarily to be of aid to the Prince and the people in this war.'_

_Marie looked around, tears stopped from shock. She recognized the voice from when she had been escaping Sir Kurt._

"_That was the swan spirit," Princess Tutu said, and Marie looked back at her; "That was the spirit who helped me become this. The spirit offered me a chance to help, and I took it." The Princess could see Marie's eyes were still filled with anxiety. "I do not blame you for your actions, Marie; you have said your apologies, and that is enough for me."_

_Marie still did not move from her position on the ground._

_Princess Tutu smiled again; __"Please, return to Ironrod and live your life. You have so much to give the kingdom and its people; I know you will make a difference."_

_The Princess was confused when Marie simply shook her head, anguished once more; __"… Even if all you say is true, Princess, I... I cannot return. Sir Kurt will not hear of returning without you, and I am already in bad standing with the King, your father, for my part in your leaving. I must leave and… try to start anew in another kingdom."_

_The Princess was shocked; she hadn__'t had any idea all the problems caused for Marie. She felt sorry for getting her involved in everything, but wanted to help as she could now. "Marie, I am truly sorry for your pains." She pulled out some of her white hair, a feather getting caught as well. She was about to toss it out, but decided to leave it. Extending a hand, she offered Marie the hair and feather. "Take this to Kurt and my father. Tell them that I chose to protect our kingdom by joining with the spirits. This will prove the truth of your story."_

_Marie hesitantly took the objects from what she saw as a glowing wing, and stared at them; __"… Will this be enough to convince them?"_

"_It must be," the Princess answered, "for that is all I can give." Realizing she had one more chance to say something before giving herself to the Prince's heart, she continued, "And Marie, will you tell Kurt something for me please?"_

_"O-of course, Princess," Marie responded, still trying to understand the mercy being offered her._

"_Tell him… that I will fulfil my duty and illuminate the kingdom."_

"… _Yes; Princess," Marie said with some confusion._

_Princess Tutu smiled; __"Thank you, Marie. Now I must go and aid the Prince, but I believe that you will accomplish great things with your talents. __I know that Leopold wished to support you, and our kingdom needs powerful magic like yours.__"_

_Marie closed her hands around the hair and feather, and nodded. __"… I will do my best, Princess. And… thank you, Princess Tutu."_

_The Princess gave a demi-pli__é curtsy, and pointed behind Marie. "That is the way to the path that will lead back to Ironrod. I wish you luck." With that, Princess Tutu turned and took off into the night once more._


	42. Chapter Twenty-three

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-three

Fakir got up from the chair, no longer tired but needing a brief stretch before finally finishing the last chapter. It ought to be the last chapter anyway. He'd noticed that sometimes things had a way of getting wordier than he anticipated.

He was finally approaching what was mentioned in 'The Prince and The Raven.' He had read the brief mention of events with Tutu so many times that he knew it by heart, partially because Mytho had wanted him to read it so often. Fakir was still a little worried that he might mess things up, but Princess Tutu now had faith that things would work out. And Duck had always believed.

Duck; she was still outside in the fountain, wasn't she? He wanted to go outside, half to check on her, and half to see if there were still animals walking around as students. But he knew he wasn't done yet. Nothing would be fixed in Goldcrown because the story still wasn't entirely fixed yet. So he sat back down at the desk.

_Princess Tutu hurried towards the ominous sky as quickly as possible. She had to help the Prince in the fight against the Raven! She used her magic to rise above the trees on vines and search for the meeting place. There, an opening in the trees that was surrounded by the darkest shadows. Princess Tutu jumped from her vantage point and seemed to fly to it, landing near the place. She heard fighting and stepped forward._

_ In the clearing was Prince Siegfried, no longer clad in his armor as he had been earlier, but in more fitted clothing, although still wielding his sword. The sword the swan spirit had mentioned; the one that would defeat the Raven. Her breath caught as she saw his beautiful face marred by scratches, and his expression resolute but weary. Darts shot out from the darkness, and she watched his lithe figure dodge the volleys. He was graceful even in combat, but she could see that he was tiring. How long had he been at this? Wasn__'t this supposed to have been a diplomatic meeting?_

_ Then she saw the Raven. Or rather, finally noticed him. He was large, at least as large as the swan spirit had been, if not more so; but his bulk was entirely made of darkness. He blended into the night, and when he beat his great wings a whirlwind would assault the Prince, along with shafts of darkness. She could only distinguish the creature by the movements, until his wings moved and she saw his great red eyes. They were the only things that glowed, and it was a malevolent light which shone from within._

_ Princess Tutu was afraid. The Prince deflected some darts, but then his shoulder was roughly grazed by one of them, drawing blood. The Raven smiled. Princess Tutu knew then that she had to do something._

_'Do you tire, Prince?' The Raven taunted as he paused in his attacks; 'Why don't you just let me eat your heart and be done with it?'_

_"Never," Prince Siegfried panted, holding his sword steadily, ignoring the tiredness and pain. He would not give in to a selfish Raven who insisted on consuming the hearts of the people. It was his duty to protect them, no matter what that cost him._

_ Then, Princess Tutu stepped into view. Her glow illuminated the area, distracting both the Raven and Prince Siegfried._

_'Who are you to interrupt my battle with the Prince?' The Raven demanded, raising himself up._

_ She gave a demi-pli__é curtsy; "I am Princess Tutu."_

_ The Raven saw her radiance, and knew at once that she had a pure heart. If he could not take the Prince__'s heart which held the love of so many, then he would simply take her pure heart for now. 'Foolish Princess,' the Raven said with a smile, 'your heart will give me even more power!'_

_ Prince Siegfried jumped into action as the Raven spread his wings, slicing at the creature. The Raven cried out as he was hit, and he directed an attack at the Prince again. He sent a whirlwind into the Prince__'s bleeding shoulder, and the sword fell to the side._

_"I am here because of the chaos you have caused, Raven!" Princess Tutu called out quickly, regaining the attention of the Raven, "I love the people who you so cruelly treat, whose hearts you consume; the people who will always resist you and protect one another!"_

_ The Raven looked at her and beat his wings, but instead of attacking, rose into the air towards the Princess. He stretched forth his claws, eagerly anticipating the sweetness of her heart. Prince Siegfried quickly grabbed his sword again and gave chase, __but he could see that the Raven would reach her first. The realization only made him strive harder._

_ Princess Tutu smiled as she saw the both of them rushing towards her, despite fear urging her to flee. She took heart at the Prince__'s determination, and that she would be able to support him. "I also love Prince Siegfried, whom I know you cannot win against," she said as her throat tightened for the last time. She looked at Siegfried with a smile, his concern for her the last thing she saw, and then closed her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks._

_ A bright glow enveloped the Princess, and the Raven__'s claws swiped at emptiness. The glow was too intense for him, and he cried out as he was temporarily blinded, flying to the side to avoid the luminosity. The Prince took advantage of the creature's moment of weakness and slashed his sword. The sword connected and the Raven gave another cry of pain, dark red blood following in the sword's wake. The Raven rose higher into the air as the glow diminished and flew off, not looking back for either the Prince or the Princess._

_ The Prince, however, looked around for the maiden. But all he could see were remnants of the glow around him, fading into the night. Princess Tutu__… What could have happened to her? The Raven hadn't taken her, but yet she was nowhere to be found. She must have used a spell to create such a light. She had mentioned something about the people of the kingdoms… Could she also have sworn to protect them?_

_ The Prince calmed as no further attacks came, and the darkness began to fade with the illumination of dawn beginning. With the Raven wounded so recently, there would be no need to prepare for attacks this morning. He sheathed his sword carefully, and felt relief that the citizens of Ironrod would be safe for a time. He would go on to protect other kingdoms as well, but he hoped that he would find the maiden again. A warmth filled his heart, and he strongly felt that he would see her once more._


	43. At Last

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

At Last

Fakir set down his pen, finished; and it finally felt like it. The story wasn't nagging at the back of his mind, no random scenes popped up in his thoughts. Albeit, he had only just finished writing, and he had plenty of Autor's notes to look over regarding technique and such. But for now he could rest. He truly felt like he had followed the story through, and that gave him peace.

After letting the ink dry, Fakir gathered the papers together. He left out the chapters that he no longer was using, the first ending he'd written. While they hadn't been bad_,_ necessarily, they weren't needed anymore. He put them away in a drawer, and put the rest of the papers in a bag. Putting the strap over his shoulder, he went outside into the darkness.

Approaching the fountain, it appeared empty. Reserving his worry, he waited until he got closer and then circled around. But there was still no Duck. Concerned, he looked again, and peered into the water as well. Nothing. Fighting the rising panic, he reasoned that she could easily have wandered off, or decided to go back to Charon's without him, for he had been writing for a few hours at least. Or maybe she had gotten hungry and went off for food. But another part of him jumped to the conclusion that he had ended the story wrong.

No, he hadn't. He had _just_ been feeling so at ease with how things had ended up. And he'd kept true to the original ending. What could possibly have gone wrong?

He could have changed it too late. Things might have already started happening that were irreversible here in Goldcrown, and he had been writing while they were still changing.

No, he reasoned; things took time to change. Maybe it was because he was writing about the past, but even the first time things had only started changing after a full night had passed. It would take a while for the fix to catch up to Goldcrown. And while it would take time for things to return to normal, more of the bad changes shouldn't occur in the meantime.

But what about Duck? Some changes could have occurred while he was writing. Or maybe things had already started changing with her before; she'd been so startled when he woke her up earlier, after all.

But then she had argued with him about staying at the fountain.

But then he had left her alone.

Fakir quickly walked to the smithy. Charon was still up, but hadn't seen Duck since that morning. A bit frantic now, Fakir went to the pond and searched in the reeds and trees for her, although he couldn't imagine her climbing up by herself without falling out. But he checked anyway, calling for her now. Still nothing.

Remembering her intent had been to watch for changes, Fakir thought perhaps she could be at the Academy. He started running there, and then remembered it was night so everyone would be in their dorms. He hoped that maybe she had snuck into the girls' dorms to check how many of the students were animals, and redirected back there. He ran past the gates, and then walked carefully around the girls' dorm, looking for possible entryways that Duck could have taken. He also checked the trees and hedges, for she could have simply found a perch and stayed to watch. He called out for her in a loud whisper, but received no response.

Quite anxious now, Fakir paused at the fountain again, trying to think of where she could have gone. He _refused _to let his mind be convinced something had gone wrong in the story to cause this, because even if things had gone badly somehow, she shouldn't just _disappear_!

Logically, how many places could a small yellow duck hide in the night? He still hadn't checked the actual campus, or town. There were plenty of locations she could have gone. But why wouldn't she have told him? Or at least left something to let him know- Maybe she had. He hadn't checked his window. Fakir hurried back to the boys' dorm.

Before he opened the door, he heard something in the hedge. Whipping around, he saw movement in the corner of the hedge by the fountain, and a small yellow duck tumbled out into the pathway. "Quack!" Before she even had time to fall over, Fakir was down on his knees and holding her.

Duck, surprised by the reception, didn't say anything.

Then Fakir pulled away and began railing; "Where were you? I've been looking all over for you!"

"Quaaack!" Duck retorted, off guard, "Quack, qua-quack, quack quaaack quack!"

"Were you in there the entire time, just watching me run around to find you?!"

"Quack quack!" she said angrily, "Quack qua, quaaack!"

"I went to the pond looking for you! And town! And Charon said he hadn't seen you since this morning, either!"

"Quack quack!" she defended, then remembered he couldn't really understand her, and tried to make a sleeping motion. Her irate face didn't make it very convincing, but Fakir did get her point.

He stopped talking for a moment, staring her down. Then, giving a sigh, he huffed, "… Of course you fell asleep." He stared a moment longer, then said more calmly, "The next time you take a nap, do it in a more obvious location."

Duck frowned, but finally muttered, "… Quack."

Honestly, Fakir was just as irritated at himself that he hadn't thought to check the hedges by the boys' dorms as he was at Duck. But she was safe, and still remembered who he was. And could argue with him. He felt more at ease again.

"Come on," he said, standing up with her, "let's get back to Charon's."

"Qua… Quack?" Duck asked, squirming a little.

"I've lost enough sleep worrying about where you are," Fakir said as he walked out the gates, "I'm going back with you and staying."

"Quack?" Duck objected, worried about the following school day, "Qua-"

"Don't worry about the Academy. I can tell them I was sick. And it wouldn't entirely be lying;" he glanced at her briefly.

Guilty, Duck quieted any further protests.

When they got back, Charon was relieved to see them both. Fakir had worried him earlier. But then not much was said, and they all went to sleep.

* * *

The next day, Fakir took his time getting up and ready. He still kept the papers with him, and he walked to school with Duck after missing morning classes. Duck worried, but he told her again it would be fine and asked her to stay where he could keep an eye on her. Just for today.

He went to the first afternoon ballet class, and Mrs. Katerina pulled him aside before exercises started. "You missed classes this morning, Fakir."

"Yes ma'm," Fakir replied calmly; "I got sick yesterday and was still recovering."

Her eyebrows raised; "Yesterday; is that why you suddenly ran from the tryouts?"

Fakir nodded; "Yes."

"And if it was so violent that you had to rush out, are you so sure you're over it?"

Fakir noticed the piano player come in; he was a normal human again. "Yes ma'm."

"Well, that is good to hear," she said, then continued; "You were only able to try out for the corps yesterday, before your… illness. You understand that I can only offer you another time to try out if you bring me a note?"

Fakir nodded again; "I'll try to get one."

"You understand that if you don't, you cannot be cast in any of the more skilled positions."

"Yes ma'm."

"And is that alright with you?"

Fakir's expression remained the same; "As long as I can continue to dance, Mrs. Katerina."

"Good;" she smiled; "That is good to hear."


	44. Chapter Twenty-four - Epilogue

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-four - Epilogue

After classes were done, Fakir showered and spent time with Duck at the pond until dark, at which point he stayed with her at Charon's again. After classes the following day, Fakir decided to look over the ending again. Sitting by a fountain and keeping Duck within sight, he sighed a little as he read the last lines. It felt like an ending, and a fitting one. It felt complete, or at least he didn't have any lingering scenes waiting for his hand.

But yet it wasn't quite done. True, he could just leave it there. Sylvia, Princess Tutu, was finally at peace. Siegfried and Ironrod were safe, for now. He had given Marie a choice about which path to take, and provided a way for her to explain things should she return.

But he hadn't explored what Marie's choice was. One of the main complaints Autor had mentioned before was the lack of follow up with Marie. He still left her there at the brink of decision, without thought for what she might choose. And either way, Ironrod was now without their beloved Princess. And Kurt… he would not take it well.

Reluctantly, Fakirgot up to go to the library. Duck noticed and inquired after him, "Quack?"

"I'm going to finish a few things up at the library," Fakir told her.

Her face became worried and she left the fountain after him; "Quaaack!"

He let out a breath; "I just want to double-check a few things. I'm not rewriting any more, so it shouldn't be a problem. Just stay around here until I'm done, okay?"

Duck was going to protest more, but Fakir gave her a small smile that she trusted. So, grudgingly, she acquiesced and followed him.

Fakir's smile grew, expressing thanks he didn't have to verbalize.

Duck felt a warmth that was from more than just the sun as they went to the library together.

* * *

_Marie held the objects in her hands and just stood there after Princess Tutu left. She stared in shock after the light that was their Princess__… Now of the spirits, she was going to protect her Prince. And her people. It was as clear as her love for the Prince, if not more so, that she wanted to help her kingdom._

_Marie struggled with the decision left for her, though: to return to Ironrod or not. The people had no idea what had happened to the Princess. If Marie left, they__'d never know. Everyone would believe that Marie had been the cause of the Princess' disappearance; they would blame her. … Except for Leopold._

_Leopold. He always believed in her; even Princess Tutu had noticed. He would believe Marie__'s story. But, was that really enough? Could she withstand the people, Sir Kurt, the King? Could she risk imprisonment for life, or even worse in order to return? Or would it be better to take her chances out among the crows?_

_Marie opened her hand and looked at the white hair and downy feather. The Princess believed in her, even after everything she__'d said and done. The Princess had said Leopold would, too. Marie was sure he would at least believe her, but forgiving her was another matter… Trepidation clung to her heart at the thought._

_But if she didn__'t try, she'd never know. And she _hated_ that._

_She clutched the items in her hand and began walking towards the trail, as Princess Tutu had indicated. Besides, she thought, Leopold would probably try and look for her before he was even healed completely. Someone needed to protect him from himself, if only for a little while. And the citizens deserved to know that their Princess was gone to protect them,always watching out for them. Even if they didn__'t believe it, they would have the option. And the Princess deserved at least that much._

_When Marie finally approached the encampment, she was met by the tired and somewhat hopeful gazes of a portion of their group. Search parties were still out. Seeing her alone, though, and her own wearied face, their hopes fell again, and they returned to trying to rest in the firelight. Some shot accusatory looks before shifting their gaze. Sir Kurt stood up at the edge of the group, rising to his height almost effortlessly, although favoring one leg. His look told her she should not have come back, and she instantly regretted her decision to ignore that option. He motioned with his head for her to come to him, and she hesitantly did so. She glanced at Leopold__'s form near the fire as she went, still sleeping, and was calmed a little._

"_Did you find the Princess?" Kurt intoned to Marie, more like a threat than a question._

_Marie__'s heart quivered; "… Yes," she said softly._

_Kurt__'s eyes widened, and a few people turned their heads. Kurt looked around for the Princess, but not seeing anyone, turned a demanding eye on Marie._

"_She's not…" Marie tried to explain, unsure what to explain first, or how; "She was on her way to the Prince, but she wasn't-"_

"_And you didn't stop her?" Kurt charged._

"_I couldn't!" Marie argued, "She was a spirit! I almost didn't even recognize her!"_

"_A spirit?" Kurt calmed but remained severe; "How do you know it wasn't a trick of the Raven's? Can you even be sure you saw her?"_

"_Yes!" Marie returned vehemently, "I _did_ see her! She was encased in light in the form of a swan maiden! The crows cannot even begin to pretend to that kind of brightness, let alone maintain it as a ruse for so long!__"_

"_What do you mean?" Kurt growled; this conversation could either be very important or very, very pointless._

"_I called out to her, and she stopped to talk with me;" Marie continued ardently, forgetting her fear in her frustration at his lack of understanding, "She looked like a swan of light for the entire time we talked. Crows have a horrendous time mimicking light of any kind, let alone a large body so bright, and they would never be able keep it up for long, much less hold a conversation simultaneously. It _was_ our Princess!__"_

"_And where is she now?"_

"_I told you, she left to help the Prince!" Marie repeated, "She stopped long enough to hear me out, and then left to aid the Prince! She became a spirit to do so, to-"_

_Kurt roughly grabbed her upper arms; __"Do you expect me to believe that?!" he bellowed, "That Princess Sylvia would abandon her people, her kingdom?"_

_Marie__'s fear returned full force. "Sh-she did it to protect Ironrod!" she stammered, "She spoke with the swan spirit, and-"_

"_Lies!" Kurt interrupted, shoving her away from him. Marie fell backwards and hit the ground, clutching her fists to her chest. More people sat up, watching. "The Princess is still out there, and you thought that by creating an incredible story, you might be spared! But I have no more tolerance for such duplicity!" Seeing Marie staring down into her cupped hands instead of at him, his anger flared again; "What do you have there?" Marie didn't answer him, but just kept staring into her palms, her face a grimace of fear. "I asked a question!" Kurt demanded._

"_It's from the-" Marie reacted, but hesitated. She thought of the Princess' bright light and kind smile that emanated from her, then continued bitingly; "It's from the Princess. She gave it to me to help convince you and the King of her story." She turned teary eyes, now angry, on Kurt; "This was all she had. But I doubt you'd believe me even if I showed it to you now."_

_Confused by her bitterness, and the words concerning what was in her hands, Kurt controlled his anger so that he was no longer yelling; __"… Show me."_

"_Why? So you can throw it in my face and call me a liar again?!" Marie shot back, her voice shaking._

"_I said show me," Kurt ordered._

_Marie glared at him, but eventually sniffed and got up, doing as she was told. She opened her hand and showed him the hair and downy feather, both a pure white that shimmered in the firelight. Others craned their necks to try and see, but only Kurt saw them fully as Marie did. He stared at the objects, sure that it was Princess Sylvia__'s hair, but confused by the feather. He touched both of them, making sure they were real. "… Where did you get these?" he intoned._

"_I told you," Marie responded, bitterness still sharp, "the Princess gave them to me. She reached to her own head and handed them over, telling me that it was all that she could give and that it would have to be enough." Recalling the words reminded Marie of the message from the Princess; "… And she asked me to tell you that she would fulfil her duty as light for the kingdom or something."_

_Kurt froze. He turned a gaze to her lacking the fire that had been raging inside him not moments before. __"… What did you say?"_

_Marie sighed, getting better control of herself again. She owed it to the Princess to at least deliver her last message correctly. __"She said, 'Tell Kurt that I will fulfil my duty and illuminate the kingdom.' Then she went to help Prince Siegfried."_

_Kurt__'s blood ran cold. Those had been his words of advice to the Princess mere hours ago. Marie had been nowhere near the conversation, nor could there have been time for her to find it out. And here was the white hair of the Princess in her hands, with a similarly white feather… Great Spirits, what had the girl _done_?!_

_Kurt suddenly dashed over to the horse nearby, ignoring the pain in his foot. He quickly got her bridle untangled and swung up into the saddle on his good foot before anyone could get to him. He galloped off into the woods in the direction Marie had come._

_Everyone stared after the guard as he disappeared from sight, and then looked at Marie with wide eyes. She met their gazes, no longer caring, and then walked over to Leopold. No one had slept through that confrontation, and even Leopold was no exception. He tried to sit up as she approached, but she restrained him as she knelt down. __"Don't. … I'm sorry, Leopold," she said softly, still cradling the objects in one hand close to her; "I shouldn't… I shouldn't have…"_

"_Princess Tutu was happy for your help, Marie," he interrupted her softly, "And I'm sure she's forgiven you for anything you might have done." His smile melted the fear she had about his forgiveness. "… Kurt didn't hurt you, did he?" Leopold continued worriedly._

_Marie coughed out a surprised laugh; __"No, but what would you be able to do if he did?"_

_Leopold grinned; __"… I could yell at him."_

_Marie rolled her eyes; __"Right."_

"_Well it seemed to work for you," he replied._

_Marie couldn__'t suppress a smile; "Well, I had some help this time." She extended her hand so that Leopold could see the hair and feather. Leopold stared at the objects for a while, not saying anything. He touched them carefully, reverently. His smile faded, as did Marie's, as they thought about the Princess._

"… _Do you think she'll return?" Leopold eventually asked._

_Marie worried at the question, but couldn__'t bring herself to be hateful anymore; "… I don't know. I don't think so; she looked just like a giant swan made of light. Or maybe a brilliant swan maiden, I don't entirely recall. But I could clearly hear and feel her sincerity."_

_Leopold moved his uninjured arm, taking her unoccupied hand; __"Princess Tutu will help protect our kingdom," Leopold said with a smile, "because she wants us to be able to enjoy our lives. To give us hope about the future. I understand now that that was why she danced for us every day, why she came outside with us. And we can make sure that our future is hopeful." He squeezed her hand._

_Marie smiled, and all doubts finally left her heart as she squeezed his hand back._

_Meanwhile, Kurt was desperate to reach Princess Sylvia before she could do anything. He pushed the horse hard up the trail, praying that he would be fast enough. But after some time, he saw a bright light flash slowly near the horizon, and he had a sinking feeling that he was already too late._

* * *

_When Kurt reached Prince Siegfried, the Prince told him all he could about the mysterious maiden known as Princess Tutu, and how she had allowed him to get the better of the Raven for the present time. Kurt had grievously nodded, and asked to be notified if anything were ever found about her. The Prince nodded, and they parted ways with thanks for each others__' services._

_When the group returned to town, there had been much fuss and worry regarding them, considering how long they__'d been gone. But everyone was received with glad hearts and open arms. Marie was escorted by Kurt directly to the castle, along with a few witnesses to verify their story. King Marius, as expected, did not take it well. His despair overcame his anger though, especially when it was clear that his daughter had forgiven her wrongdoer, and his strength lapsed. Marie quickly took up the burden of supporting the wall as the King's attention wavered, for she knew the strain on the remaining magic users would be too much. The King recovered at Kurt's calling, taking on the task again, and noticed Marie's added strength to the wall. Marie worriedly looked at the King, and hesitantly left the magic to him once more. After some discussion, a decision was reached that Marie's main task would be to be another support for the wall. They would also start a rotation with the other magic supporters, so there would always be someone to help with protection charms and healing in town._

_Still requiring punishment, an __'imprisonment' was diminished to mere house arrest, which would be relaxed when Marie was on shift for wall support to allow her to get to her place. Leopold was happy to help her with deliveries and fetching things she couldn't while she was at home. Marie often reprimanded him for trying to do too much, even once his arm had healed, but she honestly enjoyed the increased time they got to spend together because of it._

_The Raven was still at large. Ironrod was still fighting to stay alive. But the fight was a little easier with Marie__'s magical support, and the tale of the Princess' sacrifice, while saddening, increased the kingdom's desire to preserve her hope. They fought even harder to survive, despite the Raven's hold on the land. And even in the darkness of the Raven's shadow, a small light refused to be put out._


	45. Fin

Disclaimer: Princess Tutu does not belong to me, and neither to the characters. I only claim some responsibility for those whose names are unfamiliar. The rest is up to the story.

* * *

Fin

Later, Fakir went to the pond with Duck. She figured that the papers in his bag were the story he'd written, but remembering his anxiety about it, decided to wait to ask to read it. So she sat in the grass beside Fakir, letting a small breeze ruffle her feathers. Fakir seemed content as well.

Then a voice sounded behind him.

"Well you seem rather pleased with yourself."

Both Fakir and Duck turned to see Autor.

"I thought I might find you here," Autor continued, coming closer. Duck bristled, but didn't get up.

"Why are you looking?" Fakir asked warily, "Did something change?"

Autor pushed his glasses up. "In a manner of speaking;" he left Fakir on edge for a few moments before continuing; "The students and staff seem to be back to their normal human selves. And from what I can gather, the rumors of the royal couple are just that. If anything, they've raised interest in the ballet department's upcoming performance."

Fakir relaxed again; "Is that all?"

Autor crossed his arms and dithered for a little bit before continuing; "That… and it appears that the ending you wrote, no matter how atrociously, seems to have worked itself out."

Fakir debated whether or not to tell Autor about the changes; "… Would you say that the ending was fitting?"

Autor scoffed; "Not hardly; it seems to have worked, but that's about all I can say for it. While the actual happenings don't seem too ludicrous, as far as fairytales go, it's too anticlimactic for all the detail you put into the first 3/4ths of the story. How it even worked doesn't make sense, really. And how one little line fixed it? I'm still trying to figure that one out."

Fakir sighed; "Well, at least we agree on something, for once."

"… What?"

"I agree, the ending just didn't feel right," Fakir continued nonchalantly, "So when I went back to my room yesterday, I decided to rewrite it. I started where Sylvia runs away from the group and took it from there. Added a few more chapters as an ending."

Both Duck and Autor were now staring at him. Duck didn't know the plot references, but she did now grasp why Fakir had been so frantic about her absence. Autor was in shock.

Fakir shrugged; "The story wasn't over yet."

"You _changed_ the ending?!" Autor demanded.

"No," Fakir clarified, "I rewrote it. She still turns into a speck of light. And it was her choice." He smiled in Duck's direction.

"Her choice- What are you talking about?" Autor continued heatedly, "That was the farthest thing from her mind! What could you have possibly done other than made up her mind for her? That's how writing works!"

"No, it doesn't;" Fakir said, then reached for his bag; "I have the papers here if you want to read the changes…"

Autor instantly reached out, and Fakir drew it back; "But you have to stay nearby to read it. I want it back when you're done."

Autor frowned; "If you want my help-"

"For one," Fakir started, "I think that things going back to normal proves that I know at least some of what I'm writing about. And two, this doesn't mean you won't get to mark them up eventually. Just not right now."

Autor hesitated for a moment, but then relented; "Ok, fine," he said impatiently, "Just let me look at it now and you can take them back when I'm done. But you and I will be talking a lot about the rewrite when you return."

"… I think it would be safer to leave things as they are, Autor," Fakir returned more seriously, "don't you?"

Autor paused.

"I'm not going to stop writing," Fakir continued, "so there will be other things for you to critique. But this one will just be for reference."

Autor obviously wasn't entirely happy with the idea, but Fakir still held the bag. Eventually, he agreed; "… Deal."

Fakir extended the bag again, and Autor snatched it from his grasp. Autor then went onto the dock, sat down, and started digging through the papers. Fakir chuckled a little at the sight, although it also still unnerved him. But it was done now.

Fakir looked down at Duck, who was watching Autor with interest. "I asked to get it back before he scribbled all over the last chapters," he said softly, "so that you could read it, and at least manage through some of it without his notes cluttering the spaces."

Duck looked at Fakir with wide eyes; "Quack…?"

Fakir just smiled.

Blushing, Duck smiled back, then looked away, embarrassed a bit by both her excitement for the story and the way his smile made her feel. Getting more control of herself again, she leaned against Fakir in a gesture of thanks. Fakir lay down and pulled her closer to his side, arm wrapped loosely around her. Duck tensed briefly, but then relaxed and laid her head against his stomach.

As they lay there, Duck occasionally saw Autor make some movements out on the dock, and she wondered happily just how Fakir had written Princess Tutu. She hoped he'd written her as kind and loving, and given her at least some happiness in the story. And she knew, as he held her and dozed in the grass, that he had. Because she still remembered being Princess Tutu, and the feelings of peace and joy when she got to help someone. That it hadn't just been her tears falling when Prince Siegfried told her that he wanted to make Rue his Princess; and that it also hadn't just been her smile when she gave him the pendant.


End file.
